Familiar of Zero X Spec Ops: The Line
by No Country For Old Men78
Summary: A crossover of Familiar of Zero with my favorite FPS. A member of Zulu Squad gets summoned by Louise, blah blah, you get the drill. Was a One-shot now a full story in progress. Rated M for violence and harsh language.
1. Blind Luck

Familiar of Zero x Spec Ops: The Line

_(AN: This plot bunny has been running around in my head for over a month. This started out as a one shot, now a full-blown story. For anyone who is just now getting on board and reading this for the first time, the first few chapters are setting up the story, so please be patient. Review, critique, comment and jeer away. _

_Per the standard disclaimer I own nothing. Spec Ops: the Line belongs to Yager, Entertainment, and Familiar of Zero belongs to Yamaguchi Noboro. Any references to pop culture or the like belong to their respective owners.)_

"Eyes wide, target in sight."

Sgt. Crosby growled in his radio as he advanced on the now-overrun command center. Members of Zulu Squad were notorious for being cool and detached in combat, but Crosby stood out even in his own cadre, earning him the call sign _Iceman_. It contrasted with the turmoil of emotions that boiled within. Names flashed through his mind; Bowles, Bradley, Tebby, McPherson, Gobbi. All dead; all murdered by this sick psychopathic CIA puppet who called himself Captain Martin Walker.

48 hours earlier, when they first made contact with this mysterious 3 man team, his was the dissenting opinion among the senior commanders of the 33rd; he was in favor of trying to contact this Captain Walker and see if all the violence was just a misunderstanding on their part, instead of total annihilation. All of that changed with the Gate Massacre, 156 soldiers and 47 civilians burned to death with white phosphorus. Out of the ashes of grief over the loss of civilian live and the deaths of their comrades was replaced with a burning hatred of this Walker.

His thoughts were interrupted as he took cover and noted that Walker and the other soldier had taken up positions behind the sandbag reinforced bunker.

"Flank them" he said into his radio signaling his other squad-mates to approach from the blind side and flush them out with grenades. The thought brought another unpleasant memory, he remembered when Walker had intervened with Operation Cockroach, when 33rd intel found the location of Special Agent Riggs and his team of insurgents. Walker and his team ambushed Crosby and his men as they converged on the ruined department store that was Rigg's base, and what should have been a routine flush out mission turned into a bloodbath. With higher ground and the element of surprise, Walker's team decimated the 33rd, but the kicker was what happened to Pvt. Gobbi.

Gobbi was still an idealist, believing that the Damned 33rd would be vindicated once the world knew the truth of what happened. The young father of two from Kentucky had struck up a friendship with the usually gruff leader of Zulu Squad, and they shared many an evening off duty at the putting green swapping stories. In that firefight Gobbi had broken formation to try and take out Walker, who had taken cover behind a HUMVEE. The next Crosby heard was Gobbi screaming in a panic.

"Get it off me, for Christ's sake get it off be before it goes!"

Too late, as soon as Crosby had eyes on the private, he exploded in a shower of red gore and body parts. That sick bastard Walker had thrown a "sticky" grenade and it stuck to the unlucky private. Gobbi would have turned 23 next month. His baby girl just turned 3.

An explosion jolted him back to the present as he saw two of his squad-mates fly back from a RPG explosion. He allowed himself a sigh. Martinez and Pineada. More names to add to the memorial wall. Assuming they ever recaptured it.

"Taking Casualties."

He said on his radio, trying to control his emotions and staying focused on the mission. Muzzle flashes burst from the command center's side doorway, and instinctively Crosby ducked. There was a clattering noise and he looked down, only to see a grenade at his feet. Time slowed down, and he thought he heard a voice. A female voice speaking, almost chanting.

_"Oh Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers…"_

Before Crosby could react there was a blinding flash, and he found himself in a world of bright white light. Before him stood a lithe figure clothed in wispy thin garments of a purple and gold colors. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he saw that the figure was a beautiful young woman with green hair. Green? His rational brain was rebelling at what he saw. Maybe this was the afterlife? Heaven? It didn't fit with what he remembered as a child.

**_"Sergeant Robert Crosby, you have suffered so much, and for so little. All you ever wanted was to be a hero. And yet cruel fate has turned you into a monster."_**

He stared at her for a long time before responding.

"Who are you, with all due respect, ma'am?"

_**"Who I am is of little consequence. I am here to grant a boon, to answer the wish that has burned in your warrior's heart for so long. I will grant you your wish. You will become a hero."**_

He heard the same young female voice as before.

_"Heed my summoning, and bring forth my familiar!"_

Before he could respond, she reach out to him and touched his armored chest with the tip of her finger, and he felt a burning pain convulsing through his frame. Another blinding white flash, and he found himself face down.

Grass. The first thing he perceived was green grass. It was over 18 months since he was last stateside, but it felt like an eternity since he saw grass. A breeze blew cooled the back of his neck and wicked the sweat that was staining his baklava. As he began to get his bearings, he pushed himself to his feet and looked up. The sight that greeted him made him freeze.

Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière sat on the ground from where the blast blew her on her backside, staring at the apparition before her. At first she thought it was a golem, but then it became evident it was a human male. He was dressed in very odd clothes, wearing black and white armor that was neither metal nor leather but some sort of woven material. He wore a helm covered in black material, his face was hidden behind a scarf patterned after a human skull, his eyes were concealed behind a visor of mirrored orange glass. He appeared disoriented, but when he noticed her he tensed up, bringing his weapon to bear. It looked like a sleeker version of a musket made of black metal. Then he spoke, in a guttural harsh voice.

"'Become a hero she said'. Dammit Walker, you son of a bitch!"

_(AN: Seriously I thought that the guys in Zulu Squad in _Spec Ops: The Line_ were some real badasses; cool uniforms, cool equipment, ice-cold combat chatter.__ So I'm putting one in _Familiar of Zero___. If you want to skip ahead and see our Zulu Squad sarge being a fish out of water at the Tristain Academy of Magic, then skip ahead to Chapter 4 Adapt and Overcome. The following two chapters deal with the fates of Captain Walker and Lt. Adams. Hope this helps. Enjoy!)_


	2. A Farewell to Arms

_(AN: Wow, followers and favorites, and reviews! Yay! It's crazy that a one-shot plot bunny could gather so much interest. One reason I decided to take the plunge and post this is that I'm a huge fan of _Spec Ops: the Line_, and it rankled me that there is only like 2 or 3 fanfics out there out of all the thousands of stories on . So I'm currently working on another chapter this story, it will be a flashback to Sgt. Crosby's first few days at Tristain Academy of Magic, hopefully finish it up and posted by the end of the week. But in the meantime I will give you this short chapter dealing with the fate of another character from _Spec Ops: the Line_.)_

_Trainalf: Believe it or not I haven't seen Familiar of Zero yet. I've read the light novels and researched it online and read a few of the fanfics to familiarize (no pun intended) myself with the verse. I agree that there should be a dedicated category for Spec Ops: The Line, it was a pet peeve when I was uploading this fic._

_oxopoha: Thanks for the review! In fairness when I first published this a week ago I was planning on it being a one shot, but with the reaction I've gotten out of it I'll continue posting chapters._

_**"To kill for yourself is murder. To kill for your government is heroic. To kill for entertainment is harmless."**_

The hallucination of Colonel John Konrad smirked at Captain Walker's excuses.

"It takes a strong man to deny what's right in front of him. And if the truth is undeniable, you create your own. The truth, Walker, is that you're here because you wanted to feel like something you're not: A hero. I'm here because you can't accept what you've done. It broke you. You needed someone to blame, so you cast it on me. A dead man. I know the truth is hard to hear Walker, but it's time."

The scene morphed into a mirror, where Walker could see his reflection and Konrad's. Konrad was brandishing the same handgun as the one in Walker's hand.

"You're all that's left and we can't live this lie forever."

He pointed the gun at Walker.

"I'm going to count to five, then I'm pulling the trigger."

Walker shook his head.

"You're not real. This is all in my head."

"Are you sure? Maybe it's in mine? One."

Walker pointed his gun at Konrad.

"No... everything, all of this, It was your fault!"

"If that's what you believe then shoot me. Two."

Walker hung his head, his voice breaking.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt anybody..."

Konard shook his head.

"No-one ever does Walker. Three."

Konrad's words seemed tinged with regret and sympathy.

"Four. Is this really what you want Walker?"

Walker slowly put the gun under his chin. With a sigh Konrad spoke with the air of finality.

"So be it. Five."

BLAM!

Walker was surrounded by a white light. A soft feminine voice reached his ears.

**_"Captain Martin Walker, the man who so wanted to be a hero. But what you really wanted was peace, wasn't it?"_**

Walker looked around.

"Who are you? What do you want? Is this the afterlife?"

**_"Who I am is of little consequence, Captain Walker. I am here to grant you a boon that you wished for so much in life."_**

"Great, so if this is the afterlife am I going to be transported to Heaven filled with gorgeous babes?"

Even though he could not see the female speaker, he could tell that she was smiling.

**_"Yes, Captain Walker, in a manner of speaking you will be. You are going to a paradise filled with beautiful females. Most importantly, this is a place of peace, a peaceful place where you will never have to make life or death decisions or see your friends die."_**

Walker saw golden motes of light approach, and permeate his being. It was a sensation that reminded him of being immersed in a warm bath. He felt his conscious slipping.

**_"Welcome to your eternal reward, Captain Walker."_**

He lost consciousness. An eternity later, there was a disembodied voice talking. At first he couldn't make what was being said, other than the speaker was female. Then words started to morph together.

"C'mon sleepyhead! You gotta wake up!"

Walker slowly opened his eyes and was shocked to see a pair of large, moon-shaped eyes looking at him.

"There! That wasn't so hard was it? C'mon get up, you gotta help me!"

The voice sounded like a cheerleader high on helium and nitrous oxide. But that wasn't the most shocking thing. What shocked him was who the voice belonged to. It was a horse, a pink horse with a pink poufy mane. A talking horse. A talking pink horse. A talking pink horse with a poufy pink mane and a high-pitched voice, and apparently the size of an elephant and wagging her tail like an overexcited terrier. She was pulling covers off him and talking on and on about a surprise party for someone called Fluttershy. Walker pulled himself up and froze. His hand was all wrong. It was purple, for one thing, and had small, stubby digits that ended in claws. Fighting a rising panic, he ignored the prattling of the pink horse and crawled across the floor to a large mirror on the opposite wall. His reflection gasped. What stared back at him was a purple lizard with large, ice blue eyes and a green crest on the top of his head. He touched his face in disbelief, and the reflection followed. His shocked reverie was interrupted by the pink horse.

"Hey Spike, are you listening? I need you to run and get me ingredients for the cake!"

Walker spun around to face her.

"What-what did you call me?"

The horse went up and put her hoof up to what approximated his forehead.

"Are you okay, Spike? You're acting kinda funny."

"N-no, no this is a mistake, my name is Walker. Captain Martin Walker, Delta Force, Serial number 8675-309…"

He was interrupted by squealing laughter on the part of the pink horse.

"Riiiight, Spike you almost had me going. I didn't realize you were playing the name game. Okay, your name isn't Spike, it's Captain Walker, and my name isn't Pinkie Pie, it's Captain Prancer. You're funny!"

But the joke was lost on Walker. All Walker, aka Spike heard was the distant female laughter.

(_AN: yeah I feel a bit like that sadistic animator in "Duck Amok". In fairness I think Walker will adjust just fine in MLP:FIM. Maybe. Cue the evil laughter.)_


	3. MFWIC

_(AN: Because of the reaction I got to Walker's fate I decided to publish this quick drabble. I'm not particularly happy with it because I churned this out quickly this afternoon as a result of too much stress at work and not enough sleep last night. Because of the Cluster F Bombs being dropped at the beginning I'm rating this chapter Mature.)_

"Fuck you! Just shoot me! I'm standing right here! C'mon! Shoot me Goddammit! FUCKIN' SHOOT ME!"

Adams was in pain. He bled from multiple wounds that were reopened in the last battle. His body ached from sleep deprivation. But the worst was the mental feeling, like there was a rat scratching inside his skull. The mission was over; all he wanted to do was end the pain. He barely heard what was being said over the loudspeaker from the chopper. He genuinely wanted them to shoot him and end the pain. He looked over to Walker and saw him lower his weapon.

"Don't you dare!" He snarled at his CO. Walker dropped it.

"Well, fuck you, then. I didn't come this far to surrender."

"It's the only way inside that tower."

Anger boiled up inside Adams.

"For fuck's sake, give it up! The mission's over! We failed!"

"Not while I'm still breathing!"

Adams stared at Walker, and it seemed as though his eyes were opened for the first time. He saw just how far gone his CO was. He shook his head.

"Fine…then keep breathing."

He shoved Walker over the sandbags and watched him tumble to the ground.

"Run, motherfucker!"

He leveled his M249 Squad Assault Weapon at the chopper and opened fire. He screamed, but not in pain. He could feel bullets ripping through his body armor, piercing his leg, his right shoulder, and his chest, but still he felt nothing. He saw smoke billowing from the chopper's engine compartment and saw it go into a death-spin, spiraling towards him.

He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded in a white light. He looked down at himself and found that he had no wounds, that his uniform was clean and without any damage. He then heard a voice.

**_"Lieutenant Alphanso Adams, the obedient soldier. Your loyalty to your friends and your superior drove you to commit atrocities. It cost you your friend, and your sanity."_**

It was a distinctly feminine voice. Adams wasn't sure how to react to that.

"Yeah, whatever. Are you God? My guardian angel? Or the Devil welcoming me to where I deserve to go?"

**_"Who I am is of little consequence. I am here to grant your heart's desire. What is it that you wish for, Adams?"_**

He didn't answer, and he felt a calming presence in his mind, one that soothed the raging anger and washed away the maddening guilt that wracked his brain. A memory surfaced, of happier times in his younger days when he spent the summer helping at his uncle's restaurant in New Orleans, making beignets. The voice spoke again, softer this time.

**_"Ah. I see now. Very well, Adams, I will grant you what you wish. Welcome to your eternal reward."_**

He felt a jolt of pain, like electricity burning out his nervous system.

An eternity later, his senses gradually came around. The first was the sound of two voices speaking, a male and a female. The male reminded him of his old commander, before he joined Delta, the other reminded him of Lugo's mother, from the one time they met up on leave at Fort Hood. The second thing that hit him was a pleasant smell of freshly baked pastries, which reminded him of his uncle's restaurant.

"Dear I think he's coming around."

"I can see that, cupcake, give him some air."

Adams opened his eyes, and saw a ceiling. It wasn't Dubai, or even a military hospital. Then two heads appeared in his vision and caused him to sit up with a jolt. Two small horses, one was a yellow horse with an overbite and an orange mane and was wearing a bow tie and a baker's hat. The other was light blue with a pink mane and a frilly apron. Adams could barely process this when the yellow one spoke.

"Take it easy there, sonny. Seems like you've had a busy day."

The horse spoke! The insanity of it topped everything he had seen and done in the last 48 hours since they arrived in Dubai. His CO's slow descent into madness, Lugo's lynching, all this was nothing to two talking miniature horses. He abruptly sat up with and start and tried to stand, whacking his head on the low ceiling. He stifled a curse and sat back down.

The blue horse approached with a tray in it's mouth and set it next to Adams on the bed.

"Now, now dearie, you listen to my Carrot Cake and take it easy. Here, have some hot chocolate. It's my own recipe and will cure anything from a bad day to a broken heart."

Adams looked and the small mug, and took a cautious sip. He hadn't had a drink of water since since that bastard Riggs crashed the water trucks. In an irony fit for a fractured aesop his Camelback dispenser got ripped when his truck crashed into a roadblock. The liquid was warm but not too hot and tasted delicious. As the healing brew coursed down to his stomach he took in his surroundings, looking down at himself in the process. His wounds were cleaned and bandaged up, he seemed whole. He was in a small room with a bed, which was laying on, a small chest of drawers and a mirror. He noticed his SAW and M1014 combat shotgun were propped up against a wall, along with the battered remains of his body armor and load-bearing vest. He looked back to the two horses.

"Where am I?"

The yellow horse chuckled.

"Well, you're in Ponyville. Sugarcube Corner if you want to be specific. Applejack found you in the Everfree Forest and brought you here."

The blue horse cleared her throat. The yellow horse seemed embarrassed.

"Goodness gracious where are my manners? We haven't even introduced ourselves. My name is Carrot Cake, and this is my wife, Cup Cake."

"Lieutenant Alphanso Adams, United States Delta Force."

Adams belted out his name and rank mechanically, still trying to process the fact that there were talking horses in front of him. The names sounded vaguely familiar. He remembered when he was young that his younger sister had these small technicolored toy ponies that had weird names and smelled funny. He also remembered getting into trouble with his parents for snipping the tails off of one of her toys.

_"Mooooom! Alfie ruined one of my toys! He cut Applejack's tail off!"_

He jolted back to reality, or whatever this was.

"You're ponies? I remember my sister playing with talking ponies."

Carrot Cake laughed again.

"It wouldn't surprise me, sonny. We've seen your kind show up in Equestria, you're not the first, not even the first soldier to show up. Although-" he said as he eyed Adams' gear, "You're the first to show up who isn't in super power armor or weirdly powerful weapons."

He was interrupted by a rumbling noise, coming from Adams' stomach. The hot chocolate he had just ingested reminded his system that he hadn't eaten anything since the raid on the Radioman's tower. Cup Cake heard it and giggled.

"Sounds like someone's hungry. Why don't you come downstairs and have something to eat?"

Adams stood up and followed the two horses (no, ponies, he corrected himself) out of the room and down a flight of stairs. He had to stoop so as not to hit his head against the ceiling. The bottom of the stairs opened to a large open area that looked like an old-fashioned soda jerk counter, except it was fashioned out of gingerbread and sweets. Adams' thought that someone could get diabetes if you stared at the place too long. His musings were interrupted by the female pony speaking up.

"Pinkie! Pinkie Pie! Fetch me some fresh pastries, we have a guest, and by the sounds of his stomach he's brought the appetite of a griffon."

Adams was still staring at an intricately designed beam made of gingerbread and was only vaguely aware of a high-squeaky voice talking at the speed of sound. It was a second voice that pulled him out of his reverie.

"Adams?"

He spun around at the sound of his name being said. There was another horse (pony, he corrected himself again), this one was pink with a poufy mane and the source of the squeaky voice. The one who called him by name was a small purple lizard with a green crest. Adams cocked his head to one side. That voice sounded familiar.

"Adams?" The lizard repeated. "What are you doing here?"

Before he could respond the pink pony chirped up.

"Oh, you're Adams? I'm Pinkie Pie and this is my friend Spike." The pony paused for a minute. "Oops, I forgot we were still playing our name game. I'm Captain Prancer and this is Captain Walker."

Adams stared at the lizard.

"Martin? Captain Walker?"

The lizard couldn't speak but nodded miserably. The pink pony kept prancing about and talking very fast, oblivious to the goings on. Adams couldn't help himself. For the first time in a long time he laughed. A genuine, throw-your-head-back and wrack-your-gut laugh.

"Damn Walker, what the hell did you tell the lady in the white light?"

_(AN: And the sadistic animator continues to torment poor Walker. Honestly I'm not happy with this because I know absolutely nothing about _My Little Pony: FIM_, and have zero interest in finding out (no offense, it's just not my cup of java), so I'm not sure if I got the characters right. I figured I'd give Adams a break since he pretty much just went along with Walker as 'following orders.' This was originally just a one-shot for Walker and Adams' fate, but due to interest these guys will crop up later in the story. In fact I think they will be in this story's sequel. If there is someone here who is a fan of _MLP:FIM_ and _Spec Ops: The Line_ and wants to either collaborate or take this plot bunny and turn it into a story, feel free to, just PM me first.) The next chapter will shift back to _Familiar of Zero_ verse. As I said previously I plan on doing one for Lugo and a few other named characters in the game._


	4. Adapt and Overcome

_(AN: So, I can't sleep, thank you very much stress at work. But my loss is your gain; in an effort to fight through my insomnia I finished this chapter and it's ready to post. Now we get to see how our Zulu Squad sergeant will adapt in a world of magic and weirdness. And for those of you who asked, yes, I did model Sgt. Crosby after the Zulu Squad soldier who 'surrenders' to Walker in the hotel lobby of Welcome Home. Also I've framed out the next chapter, in which we will learn the fate of Sgt. John Lugo. Enjoy!)_

"Dammit, Walker you son of a bitch!"

Sgt. Crosby growled, causing the group of in front of him to flinch. His brain was barely able to process what had just happened and now he was clearly not in Kansas anymore, or Dubai. He was in a courtyard of what looked like a medieval castle, and in front of him were a group of kids, teenagers. Teenagers that were wearing weird clothes, cloaks, and brandishing wands. It looked like a Harry Potter cosplay convention. And what the hell was up with the hairstyles? The one sprawled at the ground in front of him had hot pink hair, there was another one in the crowd with bright red hair, and another with short blue hair. He pushed his orange goggles back up on his helmet and shook his head. But before he could speak, a balding older gentleman in archaic robes spoke. He was scolding the pink-haired girl in French, or at least it sounded like French.

"Louise this is highly irregular, I told you the Summoning of the Familiar ritual l is a sacred ordeal, to use the summon familiar spell a second time borders on blasphemy. You have to choose one."

The pinkette glanced fearfully at the second familiar. He was clearly a man, and another commoner, but he looked very intimidating. He had removed his glass eye covering and was staring at her intently with cold, blue eyes.

"Professor Colbert, I think I would rather take the first familiar, the commoner. This one looks scary."

Colbert nodded.

"Then seal the contract with the first familiar, I will take care of this one."

Crosby watched as the pink-haired girl walk past him to a second figure in the courtyard. He hadn't noticed because the person was behind him and out of his peripheral vision. It was a boy, a teenager wearing fairly average looking clothes. He turned his attention back to the older man, who was slowly approaching and making placating gestures. Gingerly the old man pulled out a wand and spoke more words before touching it's tip on the center of Crosby's assault vest. He felt a brief sting, like a jolt of static electricity.

"Do you understand me, stranger?"

The soldier nodded.

"Yes, sir, I understand you. Let me guess, that was some sort of magic trick you did?"

The old man chuckled.

"Yes it was magic but there was no trick to it. Well at least not for an old hat like me. My name is Colbert, and I'm sure you have many questions to ask."

On instinct Crosby stood at attention and saluted.

"Sgt. Robert Crosby, Zulu Squad, of the Damned 33rd, sir."

Colbert started at the man's odd gesture for a moment but was interrupted by some outbursts of the students. Apparently the pink-haired girl's name was Louise and was being teased by her classmates over her "familiar." He turned back to Crosby.

"If you will come this way, Mr. Crosby, I will take you to the headmaster and he will explain everything."

**(The following day, around lunchtime)**

Sgt. Crosby took sip of water and closed his eyes at the pleasant feeling of it's cool sensation wetting his mouth and throat. He tore a piece of the coarse brown bread and chewed it, savoring the complex flavors and textures. According to one of the servant girls, the food he was eating was technically rejects from the noble's table, since commoners couldn't eat the same food as nobles, let alone sit with them. Not that he minded. After spending 6 months in a sandstorm-wracked desert hellhole living off tasteless energy bars and lukewarm sand-tainted water, cold water and fresh bread was pure heaven. After taking another drink he leaned back and took in his surroundings.

Sitting in a corner table far away from the others gave Crosby a chance to relax. He had been getting all sorts of odd looks since his arrival here yesterday. He had been debriefed by the headmaster, and old bearded wizard by the name of Osmond, who very apologetically told Crosby that being summoned here was a mistake. The headmaster said that it was unprecedented for someone to perform the familiar summoning rite twice, so until they could find out what to do with their new arrival he would have to sit tight and wait. He didn't mind, the cook had set up a spare cot in the kitchen for him to sleep on, and it was still more comfortable than his old rack in Dubai. It was colder at night than he was used to, and he found himself positioning himself closer to the kitchen's large fireplace to keep warm. He also had the first good night's sleep in many months, one without nightmares. His musings were interrupted by a new arrival. It was the pink-haired girl's familiar, a teenaged boy.

"Excuse me, do you mind if I take a seat?"

Crosby shrugged.

"Sure kid, have a seat. You're Louise's familiar, right?"

He nodded.

"My name is Saito Higara, sir."

Crosby reached across the table and offered a hand.

"Sgt. Robert Crosby."

He noticed that Saito had what looked like a dog collar around his neck.

"I take it your new mistress goes in for the kinky stuff? Or is there a reason you have a dog collar around your neck?"

The teenager blushed and shook his head.

"Louise put this on me since I tried to run off yesterday."

Crosby nodded in sympathy. He noticed when he arrived at the dining hall that the pink-haired girl made Saito sit on the floor and eat like a dog, so her putting a collar on his neck wasn't too much of a stretch. The kid sat down and looked over on table where a helmet, goggles and baklava were, and noticed a P90 submachine gun on the bench next to Crosby.

"You're a soldier? From Earth, I mean?"

I was, United States Army to be precise. Actually, I'm formerly commander of Zulu Squad, of the 33rd Infantry Battalion, if you want to be really exact."

Saito's eyes went wide at the soldier's admission.

"You're from the Damned 33rd? I thought they were lost in a sandstorm in Dubai!"

Crosby raised an eyebrow.

"How did you know about us?"

"I saw on the news about the sandstorms that enveloped Dubai, Crosby-san. The last I heard was the the 33rd Battalion was lost trying to evacuate from the sandstorm."

Crosby shook his head.

"That sounds about right for the stonewalling media. The truth is more complex. My CO, Colonel John Konrad, volunteered to help coordinate the evacuation of Dubai. But his superiors ordered him to leave, when it was clear that only the rich and the elite were getting out and the civvies were being left to their fate. He defied that order, and stayed behind, to help them."

"That sounds awesome."

The sergeant's face hardened.

"No, it wasn't kid. When the storms got worse we attempted an evacuation, an evac that ended in disaster. 1,200 civilians and soldiers died. When we got back, it was decided by Konrad that we would hunker down and try to ride the storm out. As water and food got scarce, we had to rely on more and more draconian methods to maintain order. By the end of it we were practically a police state. So no, it was not awesome. We had to do some very bad things to keep people alive. It's one reason I'm not in a huge toot to get home. At best I have a court-martial and a bad conduct discharge waiting for me when I get home, at worst I'll face a firing squad as a war criminal."

He looked down, unable to meet Saito's horrified gaze.

"Sorry to bust your bubble kid."

Their conversation was interrupted by one of the maids taking away Crosby's plate. She looked longingly at Saito before turning respectfully to the sergeant.

"Did you enjoy your meal Mr. Crosby? I'm sorry if the bread was overdone. The nobles refused to eat it because they said it was burned."

Crosby smiled.

"Easy, kiddo. The bread was delicious, I haven't had a meal that good in months. Good job."

The maid brightened at his compliment and let out a _kyaa_, something that was alien to the soldier but sounded like a squeal of glee. He shrugged, must be a local thing. He saw a cake on a tray next to her.

"Where're you taking the cake?"

She lowered her head.

"To Master Guiche's table, now I must hurry or he will berate me again."

Crosby looked up. He didn't recognize the girl, who was a blonde wearing elaborate ringlets in her hair, he recognized the boy as the prissy obnoxious shit that called the pink-haired girl a "Zero." Saito spoke up.

"Wait, I saw Guiche last night when I was taking Louise's laundry to be cleaned, that's a different girl."

Crosby cocked an eyebrow.

"Weird, most of these kids look alike, are you sure?"

Saito nodded once.

"Yes, that girl is Montmorency, I recognized her when I was summoned. And the girl last night was wearing a brown cloak, not a black one."

A grin slowly spread across Crosby's face.

"So that little shit is two-timing, is he?"

He glanced over to the cake and then back to the maid.

"Say, ah, what was your name again, kiddo?"

She blushed and curtsied.

"Siesta, Mr. Crosby."

"Okay, Siesta, don't worry about the cake. I'll personally deliver it over to Guiche. Why don't you take a load off and keep Saito here company."

He turned to Saito.

"Kick back and enjoy the fireworks, kid. This is going to be a riot."

With that he stood up and took the tray. He didn't bother with his gear; if shit hit the fan he still had a combat knife in his boot and an Desert Eagle pistol holstered on his thigh. He approached the table and set the tray down with flourish on the table.

"My noble lord, here is the cake you requested."

His sarcasm was lost on Guiche, who sniffed disdainfully. The soldier turned to the blonde named Montmorency.

"And my compliments to you my fair noblewoman, you are looking most noble today."

The blonde girl seemed intimidated, but nodded.

"And if I may say my lady has exquisite taste in cloaks." He paused and tapped the side of his nose in mock thought. "But weren't you wearing a different hairstyle and cloak last night when you were talking to noble Guiche?"

There was a look of puzzlement on Montmorency's face, and one of complete panic on Guiche's.

"O-of course, not! I didn't see her last night, I was at study hall."

Beads of sweat were forming on his face as he nervously stammered out an excuse. Crosby looked up and saw a blonde girl with a brown cloak scanning the room as if looking for someone.

"My apologizes, my noble lord, for my mistake. It was not the noble lady at your table in question I saw, but another. Here she approaches."

With that he left the table and approached the blonde in the brown cloak.

"You looking for Guiche?"

Her eyes widened at his appearance, but she nodded. He jerked a thumb over one shoulder.

"He's over there with his girlfriend. Have fun."

As he left he saw the blonde girl turn crimson with anger and stormed over to Guiche's table. By the time Crosby arrived back at his own table he noticed that the maid was gone and the pink-haired girl was sitting in the maid's spot. The shitstorm was in full force, with both girls alternating between yelling at each other and beating on Guiche. Finally he must have said something to really tick off both the girls as the simultaneously slapped him at the same time and stormed off in a huff. Crosby and Saito couldn't help it they were both laughing hysterically at the scene, even the pink-haired girl joined in the laughter. Guiche for his part looked mortified, but when he saw the source of the laughter and glared at them.

"You!" he practically shrieked, "You dare laugh at me! Everyone should be laughing at you because you're pathetic, Louise the Zero!"

Crosby noticed the girl stopped laughing and looked stricken. Crosby stepped up to the blonde brat and poked him in the chest.

"No, you little shit, you're the one who's pathetic. Anyone who tries to burn a candle at both ends and two-times his lady deserves what he gets. My advice to you would be to grow a pair and man up."

Guiche seethed for a good long minute before exploding.

"I HAVE HAD ENOUGH! I REFUSE TO ALLOW A COMMONER TO SULLY MY NAME. I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!"

The mood at the table sobered instantly. Louise looked fearful, Satio puzzled. But Crosby's face had hardened, and when he spoke in was in a low, menacing voice.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're challenging me. To a duel?"

Guiche lost a bit of his composure under the glare of the soldier, but he nodded.

"Your funeral, kid. Fine, I accept your duel. When and where is the site of your impending messy death?"

"10 minutes in the courtyard." He raised his voice. "All shall attend so they can witness your shameful defeat."

With that Guiche left, and Crosby walked back to the table, pulled on his gloves and started putting on his baklava. As he was strapping the helmet his head he was aware of the pinkette, Louise, tugging on his sleeve as if trying to pull him away.

"You must go and apologize to Guiche! He is a powerful Bronze Mage, if he kills you Osmond will blame me and I'll be expelled! Or worse, my family will be disgraced!"

Crosby chuckled at the skewed priorities of the girl. He fixed his goggles in place and slung his P90 across his chest and then very gently removed her small hand from his sleeve.

"No, Louise, I'm not going to apologize to him. That Guiche is a spoiled brat who thinks that being a noble means being a bully. And sometimes bullies have to be taught a lesson. A lesson I'm going to teach him."

With that he started towards the exit, and found Saito, not quite blocking doorway.

"Well? Are you going to try to tell me to apologize to that brat?"

Saito shook his head.

"Just promise me one thing Crosby-san, don't kill him. He doesn't know what you are."

Crosby chuckled humorlessly.

"I told you kid, I'm not a monster, even if I did some bad things for the greater good. I promise I won't kill him. Fair?"

Saito nodded and stepped aside. Outside in the courtyard there was a large crowd of students gathered.

"Big crowd."

Crosby noted as Saito and Louise sidled up to him.

"Yes, Guiche loves an audience, and I suspect he's doing this to gain the affections of one of his lovers."

Crosby snorted.

"The little prick."

As if on cue Guiche came sauntering out of the crowd facing the soldier.

"Ah, you came, I am surprised that someone so cowardly as you would have had the courage to face my wrath."

"There are more idiots than people in the world, and no cure for it. Are we dueling or not?"

Guiche nodded and made a sweeping gesture with his arm.

"I am called Guiche the Bronze Mage, and you will face my constructs."

The soldier did not cower in fear, but spoke in a rather annoyed fashion.

"Has the duel started or not?"

Guiche was a bit off put, but replied. "Well, yes it has."

"Good."

With that the soldier raised his sleek musket construct and there was a loud cracking sound that echoed through the courtyard like thunder, followed by a decidedly unmanly shriek of pain. Guiche had dropped a rose flower and was clutching his right shoulder. He fell to the ground screaming as blood oozed from between his fingers.

He saw the soldier approach him, his weapon leveled and leaning forward in with a slow deliberate gait like a tiger stalking its prey. Guiche tried to scoot back away from him but his retreat was stopped when he backed into a wall. The soldier kept advancing and stopped right in front of Guiche, towering over him like some golem. A beam of light issued from the end of his weapon and put small red dot on Guiche's chest.

"W-wait! I yield, I give up, just don't kill me!"

"First apologize." The soldier growled.

"F-f-fine! I apologize to you!"

"Not me, apologize to Louise for calling her a zero."

Guiche lowered his head and said in a low voice.

"I apologize to you Louise for calling you a Zero."

"Louder."

Guiche shouted it so everyone in the courtyard heard his apology.

"Now, you're going to yield to me and say that you're an obnoxious bully and promise to be better."

For a moment Guiche forgot the pain.

"What, how dare you try and order me around, you-"

There was another sharp crack as the ground right in front of Guiche's crotch erupted in a cloud of dirt and grass. He let out another shriek.

"AHHH! WAIT! I-I YIELD TO THIS COMMONER, I AM AN OBNOXIOUS BULLY AND I PROMISE TO BE BETTER!"

He then soiled himself and passed out. Crosby grinned behind his skull baklava as he turned to one of the students.

"Go fetch a medic, or a healer or whatever you call them. His wound isn't life-threatening but it will need to be stitched up."

With that he secured his weapon and walked over to where Louise and Saito were. Louise looked livid.

"But, you cheated! He didn't even get a chance to use his magic!"

Crosby shrugged.

"The object of the exercise was to get him to yield. I'm not big on hand to hand, and I'm no mage."

"But in a fair fight he would have beaten you."

"Not much incentive for me to fight fair, is it?"

He noticed a member of the teaching faculty approaching. It was Colbert, the teacher who was present when Louise performed the Familiar Summoning Spell.

"Excuse me Mr. Crosby, but could you please accompany me? The Headmaster would like to speak to you." The soldier shook his head. "Get in a fight on the playground and get sent to the principle's office. Now this sounds familiar."

_(AN: Funny enough, you stick a soldier from some military FPS into an anime he's going to be puzzled by some of genre's unique aspects, like tsundere, yandere, squee (or kyaa), etc. So expect a lot of Lampshade Hanging and Leaning on the 4th Wall from our soldier as he adapts to his new world._

_And Yeah I know that in a lot of the crossovers there's this big epic battle between the __OC and the Bronze golems, but let's face it, this is a real soldier, a badass soldier to be true, but a real person not some supersoldier or overpowerful Sue-ish mage. He's someone who's professed dislike for close quarter combat, and knows that he can't win a fair fight with a mage, so he's going to be more pragmatic. And spending 6 months in Dubai makes you very pragmatic and very ruthless. The next chapter I think will concern the fate of the final member of Delta Squad, so stay tuned!)_


	5. We Were Soldiers

_(AN: Well, I churned this out in less than an hour! Another interlude before getting back to the main x-over. But this is the moment you've all been waiting for, the fate of Sgt. Lugo!)_

Lugo's vision began to fade. He didn't mind that, it also meant that he stopped feeling the fists and shoes pummeling him. It also meant the end was coming up quick. He also didn't mind that. After all the shit he had seen, all the things he and his team had done, he felt like he deserved to die. He was fleeing the 33rd and thought that the refugee camp would be safe, he was wrong. He didn't blame the refugees for attacking him. As far as they were concerned, the fact that Dubai was going to slowly die of thirst was his fault. And to them, he was the enemy. He didn't blame them, or even the 33rd for trying to kill him. He did blame Walker.

At first it was disobeying their original orders by trying to rescue the captured McPherson, and then it was when he ordered his team to fire on US soldiers. The wham line came with the white phosphorus incident. His CO had turned them into killers of civilians. The last straw was the raid on the water coliseum, and putting their trust in that snake Riggs. There were no villains in this piece, just misguided men who were obeying orders of superiors making bad judgment calls. The only villain finally, was Walker. Walker who treated the whole mission as if it was his own hero trip. Walker who acted as if he was reenacting some sick, twisted version of a first person shooter video game fantasy. Except the people they were killing weren't some faceless mooks or endless waves of murderous aliens, they were people. People with lives, families, hopes and dreams. But Lugo still felt like it was his fault. At any point he could have questioned Walker's orders, or insisted that Adams relieve him of command due to mental pressures. At any point he could have stopped, but he didn't.

He felt something tightening around his neck, and was vaguely aware of being lifted off the ground. He didn't even feel much discomfort at having his oxygen supply cut off, it just meant that the end was near. It was odd, he saw a bright white light, and then felt nothing.

When he became aware, he found himself surrounded by white light. He looked down and saw he was wearing his uniform, which was free from the damage it had incurred over the last 48 hours in Dubai. He still had his TAR-21 assault rifle in his hands, and a Scout Tactical sniper rifle slung to his back.

**_"Sergeant John Lugo, the peaceful man who became a soldier to better the world. Yet fate and your superior made you into a monster."_**

Lugo then noticed where the voice was coming from. It took the form of a tall female figure with flowing green hair. As she approach he noticed she was wearing some wispy thin garment of purple and gold. And she was incredibly gorgeous. Immediately the old Lugo came out.

"Well, helloooo beautiful. If you're my guardian angel, all I gotta say is 'daaamn!'. It's a shame I had to die to see you, because if I knew how gorgeous you were, I would have tried to get to Heaven sooner. Who are you?"

The female figure put a delicate hand to her mouth and giggled.

**_"Flatterer. Who I am is unimportant."_**

"Oh, come on. A lady as pretty as you can't go unnamed, what is it?"

She stopped giggling, but still smiled.

**_"You are quite persistent, and your charm is undeniable. How is it that you described yourself?"_**

Lugo straightened his baseball cap and grinned.

"Well, I speak six languages. Gimme a broken radio and a paperclip, and I'm MacGuyver. I can deadeye a squirrel at 2000 meters with Betsy here."

He patted his Scout Tactical. And then he winked at the female figure.

"-And, to top it all off, I'm the sexiest thing ever poured into a pair of ACUs. And you are?"

If the apparition could blush, she would have. As it was she continued smiling as she spoke.

**_"As you wish. I am the Weaver of Fate, not just for this tapestry, but many different tapestries. In these patterns I find threads about to be cut, and I pluck them before they are cut, and then weave them into other tapestries where they can alter the patterns for the better. Now, I ask you, what is your heart's fondest desire?"_**

"Well, I think spending an eternity getting to know a certain pretty lady with green hair would be a start."

The figure paused for a moment. Then she slowly shook her head.

**_"As tempting as that sounds, that cannot be. There must be something you desire."_**

Lugo did not respond right away, so she approached closer, close for her to look into his eyes. She had deep green eyes. In those eyes he saw all his past memories. She then smiled and nodded.**_  
_**

**_"Ah, I see. Very well, I shall grant your wish, John. You shall be a gallant knight on a white steed who rescues the fair maiden from the evil dragon. You shall combat evil and fight for the forces of good. This is the boon I will grant you."_**

Lugo felt her hands on his face as she leaned in. He closed his eyes at the last minute, but he felt soft lips brushing his, follows by an electric current that coursed through his entire body. It wasn't entirely unwelcome.**_  
_**

**_"Welcome, John Lugo, to your eternal reward."_**

Lugo woke up with a start. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying on grass, and the second was that it was nighttime. He sat up at the sound of someone crying out, someone female. He looked around. As he became aware he took notice of his surroundings. He was on a well-manicured lawn with shrubs and fountains. Behind him was a large stone manor as big as a castle. He heard the crying a second time and turned to the source. He saw a tall man with a thin mustache and wearing an old-fashioned medieval get-up with a ruffled collar walking towards the manor's entrance, and behind him were two guards dragging a young girl with short dark hair and a maid's outfit. Although he could not make out what was being said he understood the gist. The girl was being coerced against her will, and the man with the old fashioned clothes had less than honorable intentions. Now it made sense. His soldier's instincts kicked in and he began to formulate a plan to infiltrate the manor.

Siesta did not know what was going on, except that it was very bad. Bad enough for Count Mott's guards to interrupt his lecherous advances on her. She welcomed the interruption, but judging by the panicked expression on the noble's face it must be very bad. He left her locked in his room, and all she heard for the last hour were shouts and loud noises like musket shots. Then there was silence. She heard footsteps coming up, echoing off the marble floors, before stopping in front the door. She saw a shadow under the door and saw the doorknob rattle. She flinched as the door's lock was blown apart by some sort of magic. The door kicked open and a strange-looking man rushed in.

Lugo kicked open the door and rushed in, checking corners as standard breaching procedure. As he secured the room, his eyes took in the room. It was luxuriously appointed, lavish even by the standards of the rest of the palatial manor. There was an enormous four poster bed and a roaring fire in the fireplace. Cowering near the bed was the same young girl with dark hair. As he approached he could make out her features. She had short black hair that came down to her jaw, delicate features and wide light blue eyes. He then noticed that two things; she had a very impressive rack and she was dressed in a very skimpy outfit. The Delta Operator in him dragged his mind out of the gutter and focused back on her face. She looked very scared, and as he approached she whimpered and scooted back away from him. When her back was against the bedpost, she started to speak in a different language. A language he, shockingly understood.

The man was wearing very odd clothes, and had some weird hat with a long visor on the front. His weapon vaguely reminded her of the weapon that Mr. Crosby had, and the clothes had a similar pattern, but were light brown instead of black, like Mr. Crosby. As he approached she panicked.

"Please, sir, please don't hurt me! I just want to go home!"

Lugo was in shock. The girl was speaking French, or something that approximated it. His mother had insisted that he learn French. She was from Paris, although her parents originally hailed from Marrakesh, she had insisted that Lugo go to France to study and learn of his French heritage. He secured his weapon, knelt down and raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Shh! It's okay, it's okay girl. I'm not going to hurt you."

Speaking her language seemed to calm her, so he took a stab in the dark. He pointed a gloved finger to his chest.

"My name is Lugo, what's yours?"

She was still shaking, but she nodded and responded.

"Siesta, my name is Siesta."

Lugo smiled at her, and she smiled back. He looked around the room and found what he needed. He pulled an ornate brocade throw off a table and wrapped it around her shoulders. She tugged it closer to her, and accepted his outstretched hand as he helped her up.

"C'mon," he said, "Let's get you home. Where is home for you?"

"Tristain Academy of Magic, it's not far from here."

Lugo raised an eyebrow. There it was, the "magic" reference. The dirty old pervert had mentioned that he was a mage before Lugo shot him, he dismissed it at the time as being delusional. What if he was in a world of magic? He led Siesta out of the manor, and down the gravel path. At the end of the path were several horses hitched to posts. Lugo grinned as he saw the lead horse with a highly ornate kit. Horseback riding came natural for someone who grew up on his dad's ranch outside of Lubbock. If his mother represented the snooty European jet-set crowd, his father was just the opposite. Born an American citizen of illegal immigrant parents, his father started out as an hourly ranch hand, but within two decades was managing his own ranch. He smiled at the recollection of his father's reaction that his son whom he was grooming to take over the family ranch was enlisting in the Army instead.

Siesta watched as her odd man with the odd clothes effortlessly mounted up onto the count's prized steed. It was just like in the romance novels she read, the gallant knight who saved the fair maiden, it was only fitting that it was a white stallion. After he settled in he clicked his heels into the animal's flanks to approach her, he reached out a hand just as like in the books. Effortlessly he lifted her up and settled her in the saddle behind him. It was too much for her, and she let out a _kyaaa_ as she hugged him from behind.

Lugo grinned. He wasn't exactly sure what that sound the girl named Siesta made, other than it sounded like a squeal of glee, but he was sure that he liked his current gig. Riding off in the sunset (or in this case, sunrise) having rescued a pretty girl from a fate worse than death, this he could get used to. He even was riding on a steed befitting a knight in shining armor.  
"White Light Lady, you rock!" He murmured to himself as he spurred the horse in the general direction of the girl's home.

_(AN: Yeah, I know it's really sappy. As in Tastes Like Diabetes sappy. And badly written, too. But what do you expect when you churn out 2K+ words in an hour with very little sleep. Seriously I've been going over the story and finding all sorts of misspelling and grammatical errors and inconsistencies, so it means I should slow down and spend more time proofreading. Back to this chapter, of all the characters in _Spec Ops: The Line_, I felt the most for Lugo. He defined the trope of 'Woobie'. Especially after the white phosphorus incident at the gate, and I really felt bad when he got lynched by the mob. So I figured I would give him a nice reward. Couple of things; for his background because of his name I figured he was Hispanic, but since his voice actor was Middle-Eastern and with his fluency of Farsi and Arabic I figured this was the easiest way to explain his heritage. And yes, he will cross paths with our Zulu Squad sergeant. And no, it won't be pretty, but it won't be fatal either. I believe in resolvable angst, not fatal angst LOL.)_


	6. Author's Note and Intermission:

_Ugh. I think the lack of sleep and the late nights have taken a toll on me, because now I'm sick as a dog. I started framing out chapter 7 which takes us back to Crosby, Louise and Saito on the "secret mission" to Konrad and was planning on writing it this evening, but I can't even type straight. _

_Don't worry, I'm planning on having it finished over the weekend and posting it by next Wednesday at the latest. In the meantime I'm taking a few days off to recuperate and do more research. As you might have guessed I am a huge _Spec Ops: The Line_ fan, but I've only just gotten into Familiar of Zero and as the story progresses I need to know more beyond a quick reference on TvTropes or the Zero wiki. I already know how this story will pan out, and ultimately how it will end, but getting there requires more knowledge of the Zero-verse. I can tell you I'm not altering the dynamic between Saito and Louise, and outside of canon I don't think there will be any pairings outside a possible SiestaXLugo pairing. _

_And maybe KonradXTiffania hahahaha. _

_*beat*_

_ that was a joke._

_ *crickets* _

_Hence the laughing._

_ *more crickets* _

_Okay maybe that was more funny in my fever-infused brain._

_ *awkward silence* _

_Okay, I take it back, outside of possible KonradXHenriette-_

_*Cha-Chuk* _

_Okay Okay no crack pairings I promise! Step away from the Wily Pete mortar!_

_ Geez no one has a sense of humor anymore._

_Anyways, all seriousness aside thank you for all the interest and visits (2,000 views and counting, yay!) and the reviews and follows/favs. As for the upcoming chapters I can't give any spoilers, but I can tell you we haven't seen the last of the Weaver of Fate, and it's possible that more SOTL characters will meet her. Anyone with suggestions on that feel free to PM me. So until next Wednesday 29/1/2014, remember: _

**_"Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you."_**


	7. Damned If You Do

_(AN: Well I'm alive. Feeling better than before, but still not 100%. At least I churned out this chapter. Enjoy!)_

Sgt. Crosby resisted the urge to say "Eyes wide, target in sight", and raise his left hand clenched in a fist. Unfortunately the persons behind him didn't see his signal for the improvised single file column to freeze and not make a sound. Instead they all collided with each other, and collided with him, knocking him on his stomach. It didn't even knock the wind out of him, but it did ruin their element of surprise if this thief Fourquet was hiding in the shack. He sighed and pushed the tangle of teenagers off his back and pulled himself to his feet. How the hell that old goat Osmond convinced him to allow these stupid kids to tag along with him he would never know. It must have been the magic.

"Excuse me Mr. Crosby, but could you please accompany me? The Headmaster would like to speak to you."

Crosby shook his head and laughed.

"Get in a fight on the playground and get sent to the principle's office. Now this sounds familiar."

He remembered following Colbert back to the headmaster's office, and seeing Osmond again reminded Crosby of another old wizard he saw in the movies. Hell, this Osmond even had a wooden staff and smoked a pipe. As he removed his helmet and baklava he noticed he wasn't alone in the headmaster's office, he saw some of the schoolchildren that were present when Louise had summoned him. He recognized the over-endowed redhead, who winked at him.

"Yuck." He thought to himself. Busty or not he was old enough to be her father, and the sight of this teenager acting flirty squicked him out. The other person was a blue-haired bookworm, as he remembered her familiar was the giant blue dragon. He turned back to Osmond.

"Alright, sir, before you launch into the lecture, let me first point out that the stupid brat had it coming."

Osmond stopped puffing on his pipe, removed it, and cocked his head to one side.

"Hmm? Ah, you mean the duel between yourself and Guiche, no that is not the reason you are here. At least not directly. No, the reason you are here is because I am in need of some help, Mr. Crosby. With something which your…unique skillset would be of a great boon."

Crosby assumed 'parade rest'.

"You have my attention, sir. Go ahead."

Osmond stared at the soldier, and then continued.

"An artifact of great power has been stolen from the school vault. We suspect the master thief Fouquet is responsible."

"And what is this 'artifact of great power', sir?"

"It is called the Staff of Destruction. And in the wrong hands it could cause much suffering."

Crosby shook his head.

"Staff of Destruction. Now I've heard everything."

The old headmaster continued.

"This task is of the utmost importance, Mr. Crosby. Will you help me in this regard? Will you track down this Fouquet, retrieve the Staff of Destruction and bring the thief to justice?"

He nodded at once and saluted.

"You can count on me, sir. I'll find this thief and retrieve your magical WMD."

When Osmond looked puzzled the soldier sighed.

"It means Weapon of Mass Destruction, sir."

Comprehension formed on the headmaster's face and he nodded.

"Any leads on where we can find this Fouquet and the 'Staff of Destruction', sir?"

Before Osmond could speak the door flew open revealing the pinkette and her 'familiar' Saito. Louise bowed to Osmond without noticing anyone else in the room.

"I apologize for being late, Headmaster, I was busy disciplining my familiar!"

Osmond smiled.

"It is alright, Louise. I was just telling our guest about the task I am appointing to you all."

That last statement caught Crosby's attention.

"What? You're not seriously thinking of letting these kids tag along, sir?"

Osmond shrugged.

"Why not? They are mages, and you are going up against a thief who is a mage. In spite of your skills and weapons you will need a mage to fight a mage."

The redhead smirked and turned to Louise.

"If we're coming along because of our status as mages, it would probably be best to leave Louise the Zero behind. Unless we want to blow up the thief and the staff of Destruction."

Louise glared at the redhead.

"Shut up Kirche! Nobody asked you to come along, unless you want to suffocate the thief with your breasts."

The redhead called Kirche huffed, flicking her hair and puffing out her already impressive bust.

"Hmph! You're just jealous because you're so flat-chested."

The pinkette seethed, and Crosby swore he saw a blood vessel burst in her forehead. Before she could raise her wand to create some sort of very destructive spell the headmaster intervened.

"Now, now, let us not fight. Especially not in my office."

"And that is precisely why I don't want to be saddled with them, sir."

Osmond turned his attention to the soldier, who gestured to the group.

"With all due respect, sir, they're kids. The fact that they're here at this school means they haven't mastered their magic, Louise here is proof of that."

He ignored the snickering of Kirche and the death glare that the pinkette was giving him. He continued.

"I understand why you want them to come along, but I have to tell you this is a mistake. Their risk as a liability to the mission outweighs any skills they may bring."

"Your concerns are noted, Mr. Crosby, but I must insist they accompany you."

Crosby shook his head with a sigh, but raised no other objections. Considering the matter closed, the headmaster turned to his turned to his assistant, a demure young lady with glasses.

"My assistant Longueville has a contact who resides in a shack deep in the woods. You leave in the morning."

This brought the former member of Zulu Squad to his current state of mind, a routine retrieval operation suffering from mission creep into playing babysitter to a bunch of squabbling teenagers. Squabbling teenagers who possessed magic. To add insult to injury the only sane member of the group, the secretary, had disappeared as soon as they entered the forest, the last thing she told him before disappearing was that Fouquet would most likely be hiding in or around the shack. His musings were interrupted when he heard muffled yelping by who he thought was Louise.

"Gerroff me, Kirche! You're suffocating me."

Crosby couldn't help but marvel at the ridiculous sight. Louise, in the collision and ensuing fall, had somehow managed to wedge her face in Kirche's cleavage. Crosby didn't bother trying to process what twisted laws of physics permitted such things and nodded to the blue haired girl named Tabitha.

"Help her."

While Tabitha helped Louise dislodge herself from Kirche's marshmallow hell, Crosby helped Saito up. He noticed that the boy couldn't help but stare. He chuckled and clapped him on the back.

"Think about it, kid. When you were back at your old life in Tokyo, did you ever thing you'd see a sight like that?"

The teenager just dumbly shook his head.

"Speaking of which, you might want to close your mouth. It's a good way to catch flies. And God help you if Louise catches you ogling."

He turned back to the others and cleared his throat to get their attention. When he spoke it was in a low but authoritative voice.

"Alright, ladies, listen carefully as I'm only saying this one more time. We are trying, and I may add very loosely say trying, to catch this Fouquet unawares. This means the element of surprise is important. Which is why I use combat hand signals, the most important one is this,"

He held up his free hand, enclosed into a fist.

"…which means come to a complete stop, don't move or make a sound. Got it?"

When they all nodded in accord he continued.

"Now, we have eyes on target, which in this case is the shack. Saito and I are going to be the breaching team, with me going in and Saito covering me. The rest of you form up a perimeter. Questions?"

Louise very timidly raised her hand.

"Mr. Crosby, what is a breaching team?"

The soldier shook his head.

"Not important, that's Saito's and my problem. Anything else?"

Tabitha raised her hand.

"What is a perimeter, sir?"

He stifled a curse.

"Look, the familiar and I are going into the shack, as that is the most likely place the thief is. I want the three of your to stand outside here and look out for any trouble. Okay?"

The three girls nodded once. Crosby shook his head and muttered under his breath.

"Kids."

_(AN: Since I'm taking the first steps in developing Sgt. Crosby as a character, any feedback would be appreciated. I'm trying to make him more human but keeping him in character given his origins. Until the weekend!)_


	8. Damned If You Don't

_(AN: So, I have finally framed out the entire story. There will be 50-60 chapters for this story, and it's important to know that I will be glossing over some of the sub-plots of the anime _Familiar of Zero_ that aren't directly relevant to the development of my character. That isn't to say they won't be going on in the background, but as I said before I really don't want to slog through the entire _FOZ_ storyline. The main purpose is to develop my OC and his companions. But my goal is still to try and churn out at least a chapter a week. And if I take a couple of weeks off I will come back to it. I have committed enough resources to this story that I want to see it completed, I've even written the last chapter of this story to make sure I see it done. I appreciate all your interest, trust me, it makes a difference to a writer's morale when he sees hits on the story. Also, I've decided there will be three more characters from _Spec Ops: The Line_ that will crop up. Enjoy!)_

Crosby shook his head.

"Kids. This is the very definition of insanity."

He walked over to Saito, and reached down to pull his backup pistol out of the cross-draw holster on his assault vest.

"Do you know how to shoot one of these, kid?"

Saito stared at the handgun with undisguised interest.

"Sure! Of course I have!"

Crosby raised an eyebrow.

"You know what this is?"

"That's an M9 semiautomatic handgun; I shot one just like that in Call of Duty 3! Oh, and I've played Quake a bunch of times."

The soldier sighed.

"Kid, this isn't a video game, this is reality."

He paused as Saito gave him a 'really?' look.

"Well, whatever passes for reality in this weird-verse. My point is, this is not a video game, there are no continues or reload saved games or unlimited lives. And we don't have unlimited ammo, so don't go all rockn'roll on this."

He pulled the slid back to cock it and flicked the little tab at the back by the hammer.

"This racks a round in the chamber, this is the safety. Best thing to do is keep a round in the chamber but keep the hammer down and the safety off. Okay?"

Saito nodded, and Crosby reversed the gripe so the butt of the gun faced Saito and the boy took it.

"Okay, kid. You're my backup. So here's what we're doing. I'm breaching, which means I'm the guy who breaks down the door and secures the room. As backup you're responsible to make sure nobody is trying to ambush us. Think you can handle that?"

With that he pulled his shooting goggles down onto his face and brought P90 up on the ready as he stalked towards the door of the shack. The door looked old and rotted, so no breaching charges would be needed. He caught Saito's attention and counted down from five on his fingers and then kicked the door in. Quickly he secured the room, which was empty. There was an old dusty box, it too was empty. Crosby felt in his gut that something was wrong. He then heard a scream outside.

"Shit, quick! Get out, target is outside!"

As Crosby rushed outside he was greeted by another bizarre sight. A golem made of dirt, that looked to be the size of a small building with a female figure riding on its head. She was shooting bolts of energy from her wand and was clutching a cloth-wrapped bundle in the other, and hadn't noticed either the soldier or Saito. As Crosby scanned the killzone he noticed that Louise was pinned down behind a tree, and her cover was rapidly diminishing with each bolt from the thief's wand.

"Saito, when I give you the signal I want you to run over there and get Louise out of the line of fire and find some cover!"

"What signal?"

He patted his gun. Saito nodded. Crosby set his sights on the thief and opened fire. Because of the range his three round burst went wide and detonated on the golem's 'head'. But it had effect he wanted. The thief turned her attention to Crosby and in his peripheral vision he saw Saito running off towards the pinkette. Quickly he turned his attention to his enemy.

"So, Mr. Crosby, you found my shack, perhaps you can tell me how this staff of destruction works? Maybe I will spare you and the students if you tell me."

Crosby looked shocked.

"Longueville? You're the thief?"

The secretary turned thief threw her head back and laughed.

"Yes, I am Fouquet, and now that I have the Staff of Destruction it makes all those years of working for that lecherous old goat worth it. Now, you will tell me how to wield the staff or I will kill these students."

He glared at her.

"Not happening lady, but I'll give you a counter-offer. You leave the Staff of Destruction and I'll let you leave with your life."

He was edging closer to the blue-haired, who was taking cover behind a large boulder. He made eye contact with her and mouthed 'dragon', hoping she would understand to summon Sylphid, her wind dragon familiar. She nodded, and the soldier turned his attention back to Fouquet, who was fortunately was still laughing.

"Very well, then you all die!"

She hurled a bolt of energy towards Crosby, but he ducked before it connected to the ground. He unleashed another 3 round burst at the thief, but the shots were deflected by the golem. He cursed as he was force to dodge yet another attack. He took cover behind a tree. At this rate he would run out of ammo before Fouquet ran out of golem. For the first time since his arrival Crosby wished he something more powerful. Briefly he thought back to Dubai, and was ruing the fact that he didn't take the SCAR-H assault rifle when gearing up. Not only would it have more range, but that grenade would make short work of the dirt golem. His thoughts were interrupted as the tree trunk was splintered by another attack from the thief.

"You cannot hide from me forever, you pathetic commoner!"

He looked up and shocked yet again by what he saw. That makes for three times, he thought. What she was holding wasn't some runed staff or ornate spear, as he had visualized it from Osmond's description. It was a grenade launcher, a M32 MGL grenade launcher, just like the ones they had in Dubai. He wasn't particularly worried about the thief using it. For one thing, she was holding it upside down. And for another he could see a large blue dragon rapidly approaching the golem from behind. He sprinted from the ruined tree to the large boulder where Tabitha was and ducked. There was an immense crash as the dragon collided with the golem, knocking it off balance and sending the thief and the grenade launcher to the ground. Before Fouquet could recover he vaulted over the boulder and grabbed it.

"NO! Give that back! Golem, kill that man and get me that staff!"

The golem turned its attention from the dragon familiar to Crosby and started advancing on him. Quickly he leveled the grenade launcher at the golem and fired three quick shots. The grenades detonated on the golem's head and chest, and kicked up a huge cloud of dust. When it cleared, all that was left was two large legs that were rapidly crumbling. Crosby allowed himself a satisfied smile and turned his attention to his new weapon. He thumbed the release pin and the weapon opened up to reveal the 6-shot cylinder. All but one of the grenades had been fired. He pulled the live grenade out and examined it. Never mind how the weapon got here, it had been fired at least two times before. A scream caught his attention, and he looked up and cursed.

Fouquet had recovered and was holding Louise with the tip of her wand against the pinkette's throat. He wasn't sure how wands worked, but he was certain that whatever she was threatening to do would be lethal. The thief shouted at him.

"Give me that weapon or the girl dies!"

He glared at her as he approached with the weapon in the air.

"Are you sure you want to do this, lady? This isn't some toy, or even a wand like what you're used it."

The thief threw her head back and laughed.

"Now that you've demonstrated how to wield it, yes, I am most interested."

"Then catch!"

He tossed the weapon in the air and it had the desired twofold effect. First, she took her eyes off him and looked up, and second she released Louise to catch the grenade launcher. Crosby grabbed the pinkette by the elbow and half shoved half threw her over by the boulder where Tabitha was hiding. Securing Louise cost him precious seconds as he fumbled to bring his submachine gun to bear.

Too late. The thief already had the weapon pointed at him, and this time she was holding it correctly and had her finger in the trigger guard. She pulled the trigger and- nothing. She looked down at the weapon.

"But, how-"

She looked up in time to see a gloved fist coming at her face.

"Bitch."

Crosby advanced on the thief as she lay on the ground dazed. He picked up the weapon.

"This isn't a magic staff of destruction, you stupid bitch. This is a weapon, a weapon that fires projectiles called ammunition," he held up the last grenade in his other hand.

"Ammunition that has to be reloaded," he thumbed the catch and placed the grenade in the empty slot. He pointed it at Fouquet, who was now quaking with fear.

"Now, it is can be fired."

"Wait!"

Louise and Tabitha came out from behind the boulder. Louise pulled at his elbow.

"We can't kill her! We were supposed to bring her in."

"That all changed when she tried to kill us with that over-sized dirt clod. Hell, she was going to kill you for this weapon."

Fouquet was losing it and shook her head vehemently.

"No! No! I didn't intend to hurt her, I just wanted the weapon! There are powerful persons who would give a fortune for it."

Crosby pushed his goggles back and glared at her.

"Then why try to kill me with it?"

She wilted under his glare.

"Crosby-san."

The soldier turned to see Saito and Kirche approach.

"We were to arrest her and recover the staff, not kill her."

"Kid, in my world when an opponent uses deadly force against you then you have the right to use deadly force right back."

He looked back at the thief, who was close to hysterics.

"True, Crosby-san. But we are not in our world anymore. You told me you weren't a war criminal. And she tried to kill you, which means you would be justified in killing her when she was armed. But killing an unarmed opponent is murder."

There was a long minute that passed as emotions boiled through Crosby's mind. His anger at the thief's cowardice for trying to kill schoolkids and thirst for vengeance seethed at him to pull the trigger. Then he heard an echo of a voice, a feminine voice.

_**"You are still a good person."**_

It was the voice of the lady in the white light. The soothing voice continued.

_**"You deserve to be a hero in this tapestry. To kill for vengeance is murder. You don't want to be a murderer."**_

All this went through his mind in the span of that long minute. He sighed and lowered his weapon. He handed the weapon to Saito.

"No, you're right kid. I've been called a murderer enough times in my life. I don't want to start earning that title."

He saw that Fouquet was starting to crawl away and he grabbed her by the wrists. His own large hands enclosed her much smaller hands, and there was a sickening crack, followed by a piercing shriek. Saito and the three girls looked on horrified as the thief fell to the ground again whimpering. Crosby took the grenade launcher back from Saito.

"If she can't hold a wand she can't hurt us. I disarmed her. Speaking of which."

He held out his hand. Saito was still staring off into the distance. Crosby irritatedly snapped his fingers, which jolted the boy back to reality. He took the M9 pistol out of his waistband and handed it back to the soldier.

"I didn't even get a chance to fire it."

"Be grateful kid. Some soldiers go their entire lives without discharging their weapon in a combat situation. And they're the lucky ones. C'mon let's get this thieving bitch back to the school."

_(AN: Yeah, that was a bit brutal. And truth be told I'm not very happy with how the fight turned out. I have a newfound respect for the folks on this site who write kickass combat sequences. I struggled. By the way, due to the interest I will say that you have not seen the last of Walker and Adams.)_


	9. Damn Close

_(I've wrestled with this chapter for almost two days since I finished it. I wasn't happy with certain parts of it so I edited it out. When you get there you'll probably see what I edited.)_

Sgt. Crosby frowned at the pinkette.

"Say what?"

"I said when was the last time you washed?" She wrinkled her nose. "You smell worse than my familiar, and he's smells like a manure pile."

Saito, who was sitting on his straw bed in the corner tried to protest but the sergeant beat him to it.

"So?"

"So, he's a dog, but you're the guard and guards shouldn't smell bad."

"Hey, I'm right here you know!"

She ignored her familiar and stood up from her desk. After returning with the thief Fouquet and the 'Staff of Destruction' the headmaster had taken it and and requested one of Crosby's magazines from his P90. When asked why Osmond cryptically told him that he would tell everything about it in the morning. From there he followed Louise and Saito back to her room, where the discussion of hygiene cropped up.

"Listen, I concede that I don't smell like a bouquet of roses, but where I came from there was a huge shortage of water, and stuff like showers or baths were considered an unnecessary luxury."

The pinkette walked up and pointed to Crosby.

"I order you to take time off and wash yourself!"

He snorted.

"I only take orders from my superiors, not from some loudmouthed little pipsqueak."

As she flushed and pulled out her wand in a threatening manner, Saito quickly spoke up.

"I will show Crosby-san to the bathing facilities!"

The teenager quickly ushered the sergeant out of Louise's room before situation escalated. As the made their way outside Crosby discretely did a pit-check. Ugh, he really did smell bad. Then again, he honestly couldn't remember the last time he showered. Saito took him down to the kitchen, where the cook was busy preparing food for the next day.

"Ah, our Hammer and Sword have come! Welcome!"

Saito saw the odd look on Crosby's face.

"What did he just call us?"

The heavyset bearded chef grinned.

"You two were the ones who stood up to that insufferable brat Guiche, yes? So you stand up for us peasants!"

The soldier chuckled humorlessly.

"She did say I would become a hero. Guess that's what she meant."

The chef looked puzzled.

"Who?"

Crosby shook his head.

"Not important, so kid why did you bring me to the kitchen?"

Saito turned back to Chef Marteau.

"Do you have it?"

"Why, yes I do. I was going to throw them out, but if you can use them."

The chef pulled a large cauldron out of a cupboard. Saito took them.

"Do you know what we can do with these?"

Saito said as he showed them to the sergeant, who scratched his stubble.

"We're going to boil that loudmouthed brat in oil and make her into a stew, then serve it to the other nobles as a gesture of defiance?"

The teenager stared at Crosby.

"…"

"I was just kidding. We're going to use these pots to wash with?"

Saito nodded.

"Yup, it's about time you got to try out a traditional Japanese bath."

It was Crosby's turn to stare at Saito. He turned back to the chef.

"Do you have another pot? That cauldron ain't big enough for the two of us."

** (a short time later, in the courtyard)**

Crosby had to admit it. The kid was right, the Japanese did know how to bath. He recalled back in Dubai that he once vowed never to waste water on a shower again. Now, he thought he could get used to bathing. Maybe even every night. He leaned out of the cauldron to check the fire that was heating the water, and did a perimeter check. The courtyard was empty, and it was nighttime so there was very little chance of anyone barging in on them.

He nodded over to Saito who was occupying the other cauldron next to him.

"You were right, kid. This is the way to relax."

He left his armor and clothes with Siesta, after securing his weapons in the kitchen cupboard that was lockable, and instructing Marteau that no one was to go near it. He felt very naked being unarmed. He felt very naked anyways, wearing just his army-issued boxer briefs, but at least there was nobody around.

"Where did you get that tattoo?"

Saito pointed to the soldier's left forearm. It was a highly stylized skull with a fanged mouth and sporting a pair of horns. The numbers 33rd were on it.

"That's the unofficial symbol of the 'Damned 33rd.' Everyone in my unit got one just before our deployment to Afghanistan."

He reached over to the improvised end table and grabbed one of the two tankards.

"I don't know how they make this stuff, but it beats Diet Coors any day."

Saito shrugged and took his.

"It's not as good as Sapporo. But it'll do."

Crosby took a drink and glanced over the teenager.

"You're not even eighteen, kid. How do you know what beer is supposed to taste like?"

Saito took another drink and shrugged.

"It's not as strict over there, if you're careful. And besides, they sell beer in vending machines."

"Really?"

"Yep. So anyone can buy beer. The key is not to get caught."

Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Crosby reached for a gun that wasn't there and cursed under his breath. False alarm. Chef Marteau approached them carrying a large stoneware pitcher.

"Here is some more ale for our Hammer and Sword!"

He turned to Crosby.

"The maid Siesta said that your clothes have been cleaned are being dried as we speak."

"And my gear?"

Marteau gave him a conspiratorial wink.

"They are safely locked in my private cupboard, not to worry, my friend."

Siesta walked though the corridor that led from the servant's quarters to the 'Wind' section of the academy. She had finished washing Saito and Mr. Crosby's strange garments and was carrying them in a basket. Dreamily she thought how brave he and Saito were for catching Fouquet. She was dreaming so much that she collided with a tall redhead and fell to the floor with a yelp.

"Oh, Miss Zerbst, I am so sorry for running into you, I will strive not to do that again!"

Kirche chuckled good-heartedly.

"Think nothing of it, have you see that familiar of Louise around? She was looking for him."

Siesta nodded.

"Oh, yes! Him and Mr. Crosby were taking a bath in the Wind courtyard."

"A bath, in the Wind courtyard, you say?"

There was a feral grin on the redhead's face as she licked her lips. She looked down and saw the basket full of clothes.

"Those are their clothes?"

**(Back in the Courtyard)**

"…Took weeks to flush them out. I'm telling you kid, I hope you never have to have the pleasure of sharing a hooch with sand fleas. Hell I remember in Iraq we had one guy in my unit who tried to burn his foot off trying to relieve the itch."

Crosby's reflections on the less glamorous aspects of base life in occupied Iraq were interrupted by a third voice.

"Oooh, a bath! How wonderful, I was just thinking of taking one!"

Kirche Zerbst approached and set a basket of clothes by the tree. Then to the soldier's horror she started to remove her clothes.

"Ah, you know what, I was just finishing up, Saito over here could use some company."

He started to get out, and reach for his trousers. He could feel the redhead's eyes on him.

"It's not polite to stare, kid." He said without turning around. "Trust me, you don't want to look at this old war horse's battered carcass."

Kirche took in his muscular back and sunburned chest crisscrossed with multiple scars.

"Mmmm," She said, "I should have brought my saddle. I could ride a war horse."

The soldier shuddered.

"Look, I'm old enough to be your father, why don't you chat up Saito here, he's more your age."

Saito was in agreement, the teenager's eyes had glazed over as of the point that Kirche was removing her clothes. Crosby wasn't. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen outside a strip club.

"Yess," Saito said in a far-off voice, "Why don't you join me."

Kirche turned her attention to the familiar and leaped at the chance. Literally. The sergeant didn't spend too much time wondering how she could leap that high in the air **_and_** disrobe at the same time. As of the point she was distracted he pulled on his undershirt and started lacing up his boots.

He was impressed. Siesta did an excellent job of cleaning his clothes. She even managed somehow to get all the sand and grit out of his vest and even the cushioned lining of his helmet. He was carrying the basket that held the rest of his gear. He didn't bother getting fully kitted since he planned on crashing as soon as he made it back to the kitchen. He had left Saito happily enjoying the company of Kirche, he figured the kid needed a break.

Crosby himself was exhausted. After taking that hot bath all he wanted to do was go to sleep. In the kitchen he checked the cupboard where his P90, Desert Eagle and M9 handgun were stowed, and they were undisturbed. Satisfied, he took his boots off and laid down on the cot. This was heaven. A temporary reprieve that was interrupted by a shrill scream that could have shattered a pyramid of champagne flutes. He sat bolt upright pointing his M9 at the source of the noise, then sighed. Sleep, it would appear, would have to wait. He looked down at his vest and helmet.

**(In Louise's Room)**

Louise furiously beat her familiar with her whip. She went out looking for him, concerned for his well-being, and he found him taking a bath with Kirche. That tramp Kirche! And the over-busted hussy had the gall to insult her own breast size in front of her familiar, no less!

"Dog! Disobedient! Dog!"

She brought the crop down, only to see it not in her hands anymore. She stared down and looked around, only to see the guard Mr. Crosby holding it.

Crosby was tired, and very irritable. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to copping forty winks of non-nightmare laden sleep, only to find this pink-haired brat abusing Saito. So what if he was sharing a cauldron with Kirche? If she was jealous, she should say so. Abuse was something he wouldn't tolerate.

"Give that back!" Louise nearly screeched.

"No."

That took her by surprise, and for a moment she forgot her volcanic anger at her perverted familiar.

"What?"

"You hard of hearing? I said 'No'. As in the opposite of 'Yes'."

She angrily tried to grab it out of his hand, he just held his hand higher. She tried jumping to get at it, to no avail.

"Give that back! Give it back! Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!"

The sight was quite comical out of context, the short pinkette jumping up trying to snatch the whip out of the hand of the much taller Sgt. Crosby. It made the room's newest occupant burst out laughing at the sight. Both Louise and Crosby stopped to stare at the newcomer. It was a beautiful young lady with purple hair wearing a green cloak.

"Louise, my dear! It is good to see you, but what on earth are you doing?"

Louise's heart sank.

"Henrietta?"

_(AN: Well, let's just say I had written a lot more detail into the encounter of Saito and Kirche, as well as Louise catching them in the act. I decided to cut it out because 1. It sucked (lemon, get it?) and was badly written and 2. I'm really didn't want to bump the rating up again. I've got nothing against lemon fics, it's just they have to be written a very specific way. And putting lemons in your fic is a bit like feeding a Tribble, they multiply. Anyways, I broke down and rented the first season of _F0Z_ on DVD, and saw just how wrong I got the steps leading up to the duel and the first day. Oh well, serves me right for jumping in and not doing the research. I'm splitting up Chapter 9 into 2 parts since I still have the dress ball and the princess's mission. Hopefully I'll have it up by Wednesday, but we'll see. I have another chapter of the 3 characters from _Spec Ops: The Line_ which I'll put up tomorrow once I've finished proofreading it. In the meantime thanks for all the hits and reviews! Be sure to comment on anything you like or don't like!)_


	10. The Great Escape

_(AN: DunDunDUuun! Here are three more characters from Spec Ops: The Line...enjoy!)_

The silence of the sand-swept vista of ruined downtown Dubai was broken by the roar of helicopter engines and the sound of blades cutting through the air. A battered Blackhawk chopper weaved past the remains of the radio tower, with a flock of AH-J "Little Birds" in hot pursuit.

"Bravo Two Actual this is Bravo Six, we have eyes on Tango, permission to engage!" Lt. Bowles shouted into his mic.

"Bravo Six this is Brave Two Actual, you have permission to engage. Take that fucker out!"

He was chasing down the Blackhawk piloted by that crazy maniac Captain Walker. After murdering the radioman Robert Darden in cold blood, they had hijacked the chopper and demolished the building. Who the hell demolished a tower, treating the firepower on the chopper as if this was some kind of video game? Now his door gunner had spotted them weaving through the highrises of ruined downtown Dubai.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw Bravo Three go down in flames colliding with an abandoned crane. He shook his head. He knew the pilot, a loudmouth named Torrez, who fancied himself a poet. Had four kids back home and bragged up his family. He once asked Torrez why he had so many kids. The man's answer was simple and crude.

"Because my wife is fucking hot, dude!"

He was pulled out of his reverie by the door gunner's voice in his headset.

"I have the chopper in my sights, should I take the engine out?"

His door gunner was a taciturn sniper who didn't have a name tape, but answered to 'Joe.' He was the sole survivor of the cadre of snipers who engaged Walker's team on the rooftops before they raided the Radioman's tower. Understandably, he didn't talk much. Bowles shook his head. He met Joe once before the mission, the kid looked like he was about 15, but his eyes, his eyes were empty. He looked over his shoulder at the sniper. Right now the kid's face was covered in a scarf and ghillie suit.

"Do you have eyes on Walker?"

"Negative, but I can take out the engine and send those bastards to hell, sir."

Bowles thought for a minute.

"Do not take the shot unless it's to take out Walker. Our kill orders are for Walker and only Walker, and to disable the chopper and take Lugo and Adams alive if possible. If we destroy the chopper outright the other two die."

"With all due respect, sir, those two bastards killed my buds as well."

Joe's voice was quivering with anger. Bowles shook his head and spoke into his mike.

"Orders, Joe. According to our intel, the ones called Adams and Lugo are Walker's subordinates, and as such they were following his orders. You can't damn a guy for following orders."

Otherwise we'd all be damned, he thought.

"Do not take the shot unless it's a killshot on Walker."

Joe said nothing but squawked his radio to acknowledge. Another explosion occurred at his 10 o'clock. Bravo 1 went down, with some unlucky soul falling to his death. He could see Walker firing the minigun through a skyscraper to shoot at Bravo 4. Bowles hoped that no civilians were still squatting in that ruined high-rise, and for the umpteenth time wondered what sort of sick fuck was this Captain Walker. He had to think that Walker was operating under orders from higher up. Nobody would be this crazy unless they were following orders. His musings were interrupted by his co-pilot.

"Sir, there's another sandstorm coming up. Looks pretty hairy."

He keyed his mic to the command channel.

"Bravo Two Actual this is Bravo Six, we have a sandstorm inbound, what are your orders?"

There was a slight pause on the other end.

"All units still in the air, disengage, I repeat disengage Tango and return to base. We've lost a lot of our boys today, I'm not letting the sandstorm take anymore. Let the sandstorm take that son of a bitch."

Bowles clenched his jaw.

"Sir, we still have eyes on Tango and with respect I'm not letting him go. I will take him out before the sandstorm hits."

There was a long pause.

"Lt. Bowles I know you want to take Walker down, but it's not worth throwing your life away."

"Sir, if we don't take him out, he could do a lot of damage with the firepower on that chopper. He could kill more people. I can't let that happen, sir."

Another long pause.

"Alright, Bravo Six you are authorized for limited engagement. But you disengage the minute that storm hits, otherwise I'll park your ass in a sling right after I throw it in the brig, do you read me?"

Bowles grinned.

"Solid copy, Bravo Two Actual. Bravo Six out."

He pushed the control stick forward and the "Little Bird" pitched forward as it accelerated. At the rate the Blackhawk was weaving it was almost impossible to get a solid bead on the chopper, and he struggled to keep up. Then a cloud of sand started to fill the windscreen.

"Shit! The sandstorm is already on us!"

He spoke up to his co-pilot.

"How are the engines holding up?"

"Oil Pressure is steady, engine temperature is rising but we're still in the green. Wait, you're not actually thinking about following this crazy bastard into the sandstorm?"

He paused in thought.

"Negative. I'm not risking it. Like Crosby said, let the sandstorm kill him."

"With respect, sir." The door gunner's voice butted in. "I have that bastard in my sights, if you give me like 60 more seconds I'll tag him."

"You sure you can take the shot? Even in this storm?"

"Affirmative, sir. Just one minute is all I need."

Bowles looked over to his co-pilot and saw him nod.

"Alright Joe, you better take the bastard down. And the clock's ticking, you've got 50 seconds."

Winds buffeted the small chopper and Bowles fought to keep the craft steady and not collide with the ruined buildings. Then they were almost on top of Walker's chopper. They were so close that Bowles could see Walker manning the minigun. He could also see, even through the sand at this distance, the crazy look in Walker's eyes. He had definitely let go of the rope, lost cabin pressure, pick your cliché.

"Taking the shot."

Then a hail of bullets ricocheted off the Little Bird's airframe.

"Shit! We're taking fire!"

Bowles jerked the joystick to the right and veered their chopper away from the line of tracer fire. But a klaxon filling the cabin told him the damage was already done.

"Shit! Losing oil pressure!"

Bowles tried to keep his cool. He had crash landed a chopper before and even walked away from the crash. The key was to keep cool and not panic.

"Slowly cut power to the engines, I'm going to try and keep it steady."

Then another wind sheer hit them, and shook the Little Bird like a leaf in a whirlwind. The wounded craft started to spin like a top.

"Losing control! Hang on!"

He barely was able to steer the chopper away from one of the buildings, but as they cleared it he saw a large shape fill the windscreen. It was Walker's chopper. In that brief moment before they collided, Bowles didn't curse or panic. In fact, part of him was at peace.

"This is Bravo Six going down…"

"…but we're taking him with us." Was his last thought.

At least Dubai would be safe from that crazy bastard.

Bowles felt nothing, and then he was surrounded by a white light.

**_"Lieutenant Timothy Bowles, the boy whose dreams reached the skies, the poet who wanted to fly."_**

He looked around but couldn't see the source of the voice, aside from the face that it was feminine.

"Who are you? Is this Heaven?"

It seemed as if the speaker smiled.

**_"No, it isn't. But you are not in the Dark Realm, either. You are here because there is a Tapestry that requires a new pattern, and your thread can alter the pattern for the better. And if you will accomplish this task, I will grant you your wish."_**

"What wish is that, ma'am?"

**_"I will grant you peace."_**

He didn't even need to vocalize his response, he nodded. Suddenly he felt a surge through his incorporeal body followed by a flash of bright green light.

-And then he was back on his pilot chair. The Little Bird was flying as before. He looked over to his co-pilot, who had a glazed look on his face.

"Um, Tebby, did you just see a bright white light?"

The co-pilot jolted out of his reverie and looked over to Bowles.

"I…I saw a beautiful lady with green hair. She told me things, things that I thought only I knew. Then she said that I could help, and if I did she would give me something."

Bowles looked out the windscreen. It was clear they weren't in Dubai anymore. They were flying over a lush forest, above them were puffy cumulus clouds and clear blue sky.

"This is nuts."

The door gunner spoke up.

"What did she tell you, Joe?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

He scanned the gauges on the cockpit panel and tapped the fuel indicator.

"Well, something is screwy because we were running on fumes before, now it shows a full tank."

Joe interrupted.

"Sir, with respect, we crashed. We shouldn't even be here."

The conversation was interrupted by a ping on the chopper's radar. Tebby spoke up.

"We have an inbound bogey, sir. It's coming up on our six and coming in hot. That puts it going at least 160 knots."

"Well we don't know if it's hostile so let's not get trigger-happy."

Then something flashed past the windscreen. Tebby was craning his neck to the right, trying to look out his side window.

"Did you see that? Shit that thing can move!"

"Um, guys?" The door gunner's voice piped up.

"I think I spotted our bogey, and you're not gonna believe this."

"Private, we just crashed, died, visited with some incorporeal woman and are magically transported to a place that is clearly not Dubai. I think I can suspend my disbelief."

"It's a dragon, sir."

"A what?"

"It's a flying dragon, sir. And it's blue."

Bowles was trying to process what he just heard when Tebby broke his train of thought.

"Sir, I'm picking up an IFF signal, it's weak, but if I get close enough I should be able to triangulate it."

"Roger that. For now, let's find a place near civilization and try to get our bearings."

Tebby spoke up.

"I'm seeing a smaller village or something about 5 klicks to the west, that might be a good start."

After listening to her friend and Louise fight after capturing Fouquet, Charlotte, aka Tabitha, opted to return to the academy via her familiar. She offered to give Mr. Crosby a ride back, but he declined, saying that he needed to keep an eye on Louise and her familiar. And Kirche said she wanted to keep an eye on Louise's familiar, too. And that started the fight.

Her musings were interrupted when something caught her eye in the distance. It was a small airship, but instead of windstones it was held aloft by several blades. Slyphid flew past it and was in no mood to get any closer, so by the time she reached the academy, she had completely forgotten about it.

_(AN: Soooo, yeah we get three more guys from _Spec Ops: The Line_. In case you were wondering, yeah I based "Joe the Sniper" after the one sniper you see in the loading screens for _Spec Ops: The Line_. If you're curious to see all the different loading screens look it up on youtube, it's pretty cool. Anyways, these guys aren't going to be introduced right away, but when they become relevant to the plot. Yeah, I'm doing a bit of a handwave by saying that the 33__rd__ are just trying to disable Walker's chopper versus shooting it down. And I know that in Chapter 12 of the game they're shooting missiles at Walker's chopper but my reasoning is that the second time around Walker is basically cloudcuckoolander and hallucinating. My rationale is I don't care how good a shot you are or how mad skilled you as a chopper driver, if you're surrounded by 6 or 8 fully armed Little Birds, if those guys want to kill you you're toast. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this little tidbit.)_


	11. Damn Close, Part Deux

_(AN: So here's the second part of Damn Close!)_

Crosby facepalmed. Even he, not current on the whole 'noble' and 'peasant' crap knew what Saito did was a bad idea. The girl with the purple hair (seriously, what the hell is up with all the weird hair colors?) who answered to Henrietta, who was also princess as well as a BFF of Louise, had just finished bestowing knighthood to Louise and him, and then exhorting him to be a bodyguard to her best friend. Then she went to bestow a favor to Saito, and said that a kiss was in order. The kid then proceeded to kiss the princess on the lips.

For what it was worth the princess didn't seem to mind, she just seemed to be in a daze. The volcano known as Mt. St. Louise was about to erupt. Before she could do anything, Crosby grabbed her in a bear hug, pulling her off her feet and holding her under one arm. He turned back to the boy, who had this 'what did I do wrong' look on his face.

"Kid, now's a good time to flee, I don't know how long I can hold this girl before she kills you."

Saito was smart enough to heed Crosby's orders and quickly left Louise's room, leaving him with a furious pinkette and a dazed princess.

"Unhand me this instant! I order you to release me!"

"No."

"What?!"

"We've been through this before, Louise. 'No' as in the opposite of 'Yes.' As in I'm not letting you go until you've cooled off."

"Why?!"

"So you don't accidently kill your familiar or blow up half the school in the process."

"And she has, too!"

They both turned back and saw the princess standing, and seemingly regained her regal composure.

"I've heard that Louise causes more damage to the school than any enemy of Tristainia has. Please, dear, don't worry. Your familiar meant no harm by his actions."

"I still want to beat that mangy cur dog uncouth dog of a worthless familiar within an inch of his life for that disgrace!"

"Once again my lady," Crosby said the words dripping with sarcasm, "I'm not letting you go until you promise me not to beat up Saito. He's just a kid. Now, I'm going to let you go because my arms are getting tired, and we're going to have a civil discourse about disciplining familiars that don't involve bodily violence, alright?"

Louise nodded and he set her down. He wasn't kidding about his arms being tired. As soon as the pinkette's feet touched the floor she sprang into action, whipping out her wand and pointing it at him. Not quick enough for the sergeant to snatch it out of her hand before she could get an incantation off. She tried to grab it, and he held it out of her reach. She grabbed her riding crop and tried to hit him with it, and he took that as well.

"You know, I'm getting a case of déjà vu all over again, your highness."

Crosby addressed Henrietta as he ignored Louise's attempts to re-acquire her wand and whip. The princess giggled at the sight of her friend's pathetic attempts to jump up and down to reach the soldier's outstretched hand.

Finally in frustration Louise tried climbing up Crosby's vest to reach her wand. He held her back with his free hand. Just before it got to the hair-pulling and biting phase Henriette cleared her throat. That caught Louise's attention.

"Louise, dear really this is undignified. And I haven't seen you in forever, why don't you come and sit with me and catch up?"

She nodded once, and hopped off Crosby's back. She turned back to him.

"Go, Sir Bodyguard, and fetch me my cowardly familiar and bring him back here to apologize to her highness."

"As my lady commands, I obey," Crosby said with a flourishing bow, "But only on one condition."

She almost started another argument but it was cut off by Henrietta.

"What is your condition, Sir Robert of Crosby?"

"Louise has to promise not to abuse Saito."

"What? He is my familiar and I need to discipline him, otherwise he will be disobedient and unruly!"

"Fine, I get it. Without discipline everything goes to crap. You're preaching to the choir. But promise me, on your word as a noble, that you will henceforth not use excessive force on your familiar."

He paused.

"You do know what excessive force is, right?"

Louise huffed.

"Fine! I, Louise Françoise Le Blanc, of the House of La Vallière, on my word as a noble promise not to murder my familiar, lowly dog though he may be and deserving it."

That satisfied the sergeant.

"Good, now if your highness and lady will excuse me, I have a familiar to track."

With that he left the two girls to chat in Louise's room, and started down the hall. He checked his watch. 22:30. He sighed. At this rate he might not get to bed until past midnight. He had an early morning meeting with Osmond and he had a feeling it was going to be another long day. He passed a student in the hallway and noticed it was the blue-haired girl with the dragon familiar.

"Tabitha?"

She looked up from her book.

"Yes, Mr. Crosby?"

"Have you seen Saito? Louise's familiar?"

She looked back to her book.

"Yes, last I saw he was being carried off by Flame."

Crosby cocked his head to one side.

"Flame?"

"Yes, a fire salamander. Flame is Kirche's familiar."

The soldier did a take as the pieces fell into place.

"Oh crap." He said to himself.

"Where is Miss Zerbst's room, Tabitha?"

The blue haired girl pointed down the hallway.

"Down that hallway, up the flight of stairs, second door on your left."

He nodded and started off in that direction. With any luck he would get there before anything bad happened. He sprinted past a floating eyeball and almost tripped over the first year student with blonde hair on the stairs. He arrived at Kirche's room and opened the door.

Her room was as lavish as Louise's except there were rose petals strewn everywhere and candles lit. Kirche was in the middle of the room, wearing what he guessed was the mage equivalent of a negligée and was cuddling Saito. In spite of the situation Crosby couldn't help but grin. The kid had this dreamy far off expression on his face. The redhead finally noticed the soldier standing in her doorway.

"Oh, it's my old war horse! Well I'm sorry but I'm booked for the evening. Saito darling and I have some unfinished business to attend to."

"Unfinished business?"

"Yes, we were having such a wonderful time in that kettle before we were so rudely interrupted by that Louise the Zero. But you're welcome to stop tomorrow night!"

"Ah, riiight. About Louise, she kind of sent me to fetch him, so if you don't mind…"

She stood up abruptly, and Saito fell to the floor in a daze.

"That little flat-chested Tristainian brat is not going to ruin my evening!"

Crosby knelt down beside Saito and waved a hand in front of his face. The kid was still out of it.

"Hellooo? Mission Control to Saito, snap out of it!"

It was having some sort of an effect, and the teenager's eyes focused.

"Crosby-san?"

"We need to get the hell out of here, stat!"

He stared at the soldier.

"Are you kidding me? This beautiful girl is throwing herself at me and you want me to leave?"

"Yep."

Saito gestured to Kirche, who had taken a seat on her bed and making very provocative poses.

"You. Want me. To leave that behind."

"Once again, if you value your life, yes."

He looked at the soldier and replied sarcastically.

"Did you ever go through puberty, Crosby-san, or did you skip straight from grammar school to boot camp?"

Crosby ignored the barb and continued.

"Let me draw you a picture, kid. She's about this tall," he gestured to his waist, "has pink hair, speaks in a high pitched voice, has the destructive magical ability of a low-yield nuclear bomb, and a hair-trigger temper."

"Don't forget that she is a Zero with magic, darling."

Kirche had snuck up on Saito and wedged his face into her bosom. The soldier shook his head. This was not his evening.

"Kid, do you have any idea what that pink-haired psychotic pipsqueak is going to do to you if she catches you in a compromising position with Miss Zerbst?"

"She is going to kill her mangy cur of a familiar!"

Crosby groaned at the new voice and turned around. There was Louise, looking like she was about to blow a gasket. He swore he could see steam coming out of her ears.

"Remember, Louise, you promised!"

"I promised not to kill him, that was before I found him in the arms of THAT TRAMP KIRCHE!"

She screeched the last part so loud it made the fillings in Crosby's teeth ache. He threw up his hands and stepped past the pinkette.

"Fine, whatever."

This was not what she expected him to say. She stared at the soldier as he walked past her, but quickly recovered and continued directing her death glare at her familiar. Saito was fighting a rising panic.

"Wait, Crosby-san! Where are you going?"

Crosby paused in the doorway.

"Bed. It's late, I'm tired and I've a feeling tomorrow's going to be another long day."

"Wait, please help! She's going to kill me!"

The soldier started to walk away and said over his shoulder.

"You've shit the bed, now you gotta lie in it."

He ignored the screeching of Louise and the cries of help from Saito. In fact, when he got to his cot in the kitchen, he was so tired he didn't even bother with his boots, but fell right asleep. He even slept through what sounded like a MOAB going off in the vicinity of Kirche's room.

_(for those who don't know MOAB is, it's a GBU-43 Massive Ordinance Air Blast, also known as the 'Mother of All Bombs". Check it out on youtube for a massive blast. _

_Hahaha, wow, I'm slinging some real dynamite jokes tonight. _

_*crickets*_

_Jeez, everyone's a critic these days. Yeah, so remember when I said I would do Chapter 9 in two parts? I meant three. But in fairness I should churn out the third part in the next couple of days. Until then!)_


	12. All That You Can Be

The soldier had no alarm clock but his internal one that woke him up like clockwork every morning at 0600. He stretched and had forgotten that he was so tired the previous night that he slept in his boots. As he stretched he heard one of the servants talking about some destruction in the second year dorm area. Apparently, he had slept through a particularly epic tantrum of Louise that resulted in half the Wind tower being blown apart.

He ignored all that as he made his way to one of the courtyards for his morning calisthenics.

As jogged around the perimeter of the courtyard his thoughts drifted back to the odd dreams he had the previous night. That night he dreamed about the green-haired lady in the white light. Except that she was sitting on the table by his cot in the kitchen. She spoke in that same, soft voice.

**_"So, how does the hero like his new tale?"_**

"It's nice. Could be better with indoor plumbing. But it's a nice change of pace from where I came from."

She giggled and cupped a delicate hand onto her chin.

**_"Every new tale has its own challenges. It is important to enjoy the small moments of comfort that come your way. For it will not always be this easy. There is a conflict brewing on the horizon."_**

Crosby had started to become angry.

"Hey, come on! I thought you told me I was done with war and fighting and death."

If the lady was offended at his outburst she didn't show it, but smiled at him as if he had just told a particularly funny joke.

**_"I told you I would grant you your heart's desire to be a hero. Heroes are not born from times of peace and enjoyment. The difference here is that what you do will make a difference and the decisions, while difficult, will not be about the lesser of two evils, but clear choices of good or evil. Make use of your companions, and do not hesitate to enlist others in your quest. If you keep to this path you will earn your title of Robert Crosby, Hero; of that I am certain."_**

She stepped lightly off the table and knelt down to be eye level with the soldier. She placed a kiss on his forehead and he felt his consciousness drifting.

**_"Now go back to sleep, and remember; you are a good person, as long as you do good no one can tell you otherwise."_**

His morning exercise routine finished, he wiped the small beads of sweat from his brow. It seemed all cryptic to him, 'what did the mysterious green-haired woman mean?' he thought to himself as he made his way back to the kitchen. But his thoughts were interrupted as he entered the kitchen to gear up. He was greeted by the cook and his staff, and another squeal that sounded like _kyaaa_. That would be Siesta the maid.

"Oh, Sir Crosby! Welcome to our humble quarters!"

He smiled at the maid. He still thought it was cute the way she idolized him and Saito. Especially since she looked like a really cute puppy when she did that.

"Come on Siesta, it's just Mr. Crosby. A stinking title doesn't make me any better than anybody here in this room."

She shook her head emphatically.

"Oh but it does! And you are so noble of a knight, to be the champion of us commoners!"

He grinned and went over to the box were his gear was stashed. After putting on his assault vest he turned back to the cook.

"Hey Marteau, what does a knight have to do to get some chow around here? Slay the dragon, punch out some spoiled bratty noble?"

The chef returned his grin, but shook his head.

"Nothing of the sort, Sir Crosby the Hammer. But I am afraid I can't offer you anything here."

The soldier frowned.

"Say what?"

Marteau grinned.

"Well, you are a noble, and as such, you can eat their food. You can eat in the dining hall, there is no need to eat in the kitchen."

Crosby shrugged.

"If it was just me, I'd rather eat here." A thought came to him. "On the other hand, I may take you up on that. I'll be right back."

He left the kitchen and strode through the dining room, scanning it. When he saw the familiar pink-haired girl at a table he made his way over there. As he got closer he saw Saito was there too, chained up and collared like a dog. He also had ears and a tail like a dog. That earned a double take from the soldier.

"Jeez, Louise must have been pretty pissed at him last night." He thought.

The pinkette looked up from her tea and waved him over.

"Please, Sir Bodyguard Crosby, have a seat at my table. You are a noble so you may sit as among equals."

She seemed to be in a very chipper mood, in contrast to the night before. Once again he was wondering how the women in this world go through mood swings like this; an apocalyptic human volcano one instant, a sweet smiling teenager the next. He shook the thoughts from his head.

"Don't mind if I do."

He sat down and got the attention of a servant.

"I'll take a cup of whatever you guys serve for waking up that isn't tea, and a large cake."

The servant looked perplexed but didn't question his order. He noticed that someone had snuck up and was placing a bundle of roses on the table. On instinct he grabbed the wrist of the person holding the roses. There was a yelp of pain, and he recognized the voice. It was Guiche, the blonde pretty boy that had challenged the soldier to an ill-fated duel. Noticing that his right arm was in a sling he guessed the kid was still recovering.

"Sorry for hurting you kid. But you really shouldn't sneak up on a fella like that."

He expected the brat to make some snooty rebuttal, but was shocked that he hung his head.

"I am sorry for offending you, Sir Crosby, and rashly challenging you to that duel."

Crosby shrugged.

"No harm no foul. You just take care of that shoulder and we'll call it square."

He held out the flowers to the sergeant.

"If you want to give them to Louise, she's right there."

"No, they are for you, Sir Crosby."

The soldier raised an eyebrow.

"Um, before you get the wrong idea, I don't play that side of outfield. I thought you were into girls, but if you play both sides, I'm not going to judge."

Guiche looked mortified and shook his head emphatically.

"What, no! no! It's not like that, it's –"

"It's that ever since he got beaten by you he has a lot fewer friends."

The blonde girl with the ringlets in her hair spoke up behind Guiche.

"Yes, yes! MonMon is right. I just wanted to be friends with you, Sir Crosby."

Crosby shrugged.

"Then all you had to do was ask. As I said, we're cool now, and as long as you lose the attitude I don't mind us being pals. That doesn't mean I'll be taking long walks or long showers with you."

He saw the puzzled look on both of their faces, and shook his head.

"It's a figure of speech. And if I may make a suggestion, don't give another guy a bunch of roses; it gives all the wrong ideas."

Guiche nodded and left with the blonde girl in tow.

After they left the soldier looked around.

"Where's your friend the princess?"

That earned him a shush from the Louise, who was frantically gesturing to keep his voice down.

"Her presence here is meant to be a secret, she is the special guest of honor at tonight's ball."

"There's a ball tonight?"

She smiled.

"Yes, it's going to be wonderful." She stared at him for a brief minute. "Of course you can't go looking like that. I'll see if I can get you some formal wear for you. You are my bodyguard after all."

Crosby's thoughts where interrupted by some dog-like whimpering from under the table. He looked at Saito, still marveling that he had dog ears and a tail. After looking him over he glanced back to Louise.

"Do I wanna know?"

She swallow a large piece of cake and huffed.

"No, you don't. I warned him repeatedly not to arouse my ire, and after I dragged him out of that tramp Kirche's room he started singing a song about me being a Zero. So I turned him into a dog."

The soldier rolled his eyes.

"At least tell me it's not permanent."

"No, I plan on changing him back before the ball this evening."

She glared at down at Saito and jerked the chain that was attached to his collar.

"Providing the dog familiar behaves and does not act like a pervert!"

She was interrupted in her tirade with the arrival of the servant, who places a large bowl-like cup in front of the soldier and a large box.

"Here is your cappuccino, Sir Crosby, and a cake as you requested. Shall I cut it for you?"

Crosby drained the cup in one pull and stood up.

"That will not be necessary, I'll just take it to go."

He took the box and turned to Louise, giving her a bow.

"If my lady will give her bodyguard leave?"

Louise smiled at his formality, not noting the sarcasm in his voice, and fluttered her hand.

"You may go, Sir Bodyguard. Enjoy your cake."

After he left she gave the chain another sharp yank.

"See dog? Even Sir Crosby can act like a noble! I cannot believe you came from the same place as he did."

The doors to the kitchen opened up again, revealing the sergeant carrying a cake box.

"Back so soon, Sir Crosby?"

The soldier shrugged.

"Food was decent, company stank. So I came back here, and I brought you guys a little something."

He opened the box and revealed a beautifully decorated cake. The maid's eyes got even larger.

"Oh, but Sir Crosby, you shouldn't have! These cakes are so expensive, and for nobles only."

"Well, as a noble I am giving it to you guys as payment for putting me up and feeding me."

The maid let out another _kyaaa_, and hugged him. Well, hugged his midsection anyways. And it wasn't completely unwelcome. While she didn't have the huge rack that Miss Zerbst had, she had assets large enough that he could feel though his body armor, and that was impressive. And it made her hug all the more pleasant. Finally he gently disengaged her from him.

"Anyways, you guys enjoy the cake. I've got to see the headmaster now."

**(later, at the headmaster's office)**

Crosby stared at the spare mag of his P90. He swore that when he turned it over to Osmond it had maybe three or four rounds in it, but the translucent magazine showed all 50 rounds in it. He picked it up.

"Oh I assure you, Sir Crosby, it is real."

The soldier looked up.

"Sir Crosby? How did you find out?"

"Oh, the usual gossip mill of the school; the help. It's all over the school that Princess Henrietta knighted you and Louise Vallière. She arrived incognito when you were on your mission to retrieve the thief Fouquet."

The old headmaster sighed.

"Poor Longueville, what a pity about her. And she came so highly recommended. Now where will I get a good grope, er, help from?"

He noticed the soldier staring at him, and quickly cleared his throat.

"Yes, as you can see, I cannot replicate the mechanisms that make up your weapon, nor could I make the bullets from scratch with their explosives and unique alloys. However, there is a little known spell of replenishing that allows one to multiply that which is already there. So, in this case, the three bullets left in this device allowed me to multiply them to fifty."

He held up the grenade launcher, and when he thumbed open the catch Crosby saw that all 6 rounds were loaded with new grenades.

"The same goes with this Staff of Destruction, er what was it you called it?"

"An M32 MGL Grenade Launcher, or RPG for short."

"Ah, right, and the same principle was applied to this grenade launcher, speaking of which."

He offered it to Crosby.

"You're giving me this? Why?"

"It's far too dangerous in anyone else's hands. Since it came from your world and you clearly know how to operate it, it is safest in your hands. Consider it a repayment for capturing the thief."

The soldier accepted the RPG and slung it on his back. After a long pause he spoke again.

"You never did tell me how you got ahold of this?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Osmond's face.

"No, I didn't. It happened over thirty years ago. I was combating a terrible dragon, and almost lost my life to it. There was a man who appeared, he was dressed very similar to you, wielding that weapon, and badly wounded from some battle. He fired two bolts at the dragon and killed it, but not before succumbing to his own wounds and dying shortly thereafter. At the time I thought he was a mage from another world and this was his Staff of Destruction."

"Did he leave behind any mementos or indicators where he came from?"

The headmaster shook his head.

"No, he just left behind a box, which we stored it in."

He pulled a long box from the floor and set it on his desk. Crosby stared at it. It was a very average looking military-style metal locker painted tan. Stenciled in black paint was a stylized bear paw print and the words 'Property of Blackwater Security'.

"Blackwater?"

"You know of the soldier's country of origin?"

"Yes, but it's not a country, it's a company. He was…I guess you'd call him a kind of mercenary. I knew of people from his organization. They had a bad reputation, but I guess if he helped you at least one of them couldn't have been all bad."

"Well, good to know. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to write a help-wanted ad for another secretary."

Crosby left the headmaster scribbling something on a parchment exited the office. He made his way to the courtyard and sat down. His musings were interrupted by the something that sounded like the purring of a large cat. He looked up and saw a blue dragon looking at him. It was Sylphid, the blue-haired girl's familiar that helped them capture Fouquet. It opened its mouth and licked him. He fought down the urge to draw his weapon and fire on it when the dragon suddenly stopped. He looked over. Tabitha had bopped the dragon on the head with her staff.

"No eating!"

The dragon whimpered and moved away.

He spent the rest of the morning sharpening up his skills on an improvised firing range in the Earth courtyard, using empty wine bottles tied to a tree branch for target practice. After the encounter with the golem he wanted to make sure he knew the exact limitations of his weapons. After squeezing off four bursts he looked down at his weapon. Just as the headmaster said, he saw bullets appear in the transparent ammo feed as if by magic. Except it was magic.

He stood from his prone firing position and walked over to examine the dead targets. All four wine bottles were broken but with the necks and stems intact. He went back, this time taking twenty paces back from his original firing position to gauge the range and wind difference. Shooting the bottle's necks while they swung in the wind at this range would be more of a challenge.

Four bursts later, he looked up and saw all the bottles shattered. He paused as he heard the sounds of footsteps coming and looked up. It was Siesta, carrying a tray laden with food. She knelt beside him and set the tray down.

"The lady Louise didn't see you at lunch, so I took the liberty of bringing you some food. I hope it didn't get cold as I brought it to you."

He gave the maid a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure it'll taste great. Let me secure my weapon and clean up the targets."

She looked over to where the remains of the shattered bottles were.

"Why were you shooting those empty bottles?"

"Target practice." He noticed the blank look on the maid's face. "I'm testing the accuracy of my weapon at this range. It's not usually meant for long range shooting."

She looked over at the tree where the remains of the bottles were still tethered to.

"But isn't it more difficult to shoot them? With them tied to a branch those bottles will move with the wind."

Crosby secured his weapon and sat down to dig in to the meal.

"That's the idea, kiddo. In my world, targets don't stay still, so to stay sharp it's good to practice with moving targets." He took a bite from what looked like roast beef.  
"This is really good, by the way."

She smiled.

"Also, the familiar Saito was looking for you in the kitchen and wanted your help."

"If his request involves killing a certain pink-haired human wrecking ball, the answer's no."

He paused.

"Wait, he asked you? He can talk now?"

She nodded.

"Well, I guess Louise was true to her word."

He turned back to Siesta.

"Run back and tell Saito I'll be there shortly." He gestured to the tray. "I'll bring this back to the kitchen, so don't worry."

When he returned the tray and plates to the kitchen Crosby saw Saito sitting there talking to the chef. Sure enough, he was missing the dog ears and tail. The kid looked up.

"Oh, hello Crosby-san!"

The soldier walked up to Saito.

"So she turned you back, eh?"

"Yes, she did."

"Good."

Crosby dope-slapped the teenager, who yelped in pain.

"Ow! I get enough of that from Louise! What was that for?"

"For clutching the idiot ball and provoking the pinkette. That was a stupid thing to do last night."

Saito actually got mad at the sergeant.

"You don't have to live as her familiar, or slave would be a more accurate description! She calls me dog all the time, makes me do her laundry, wash her underwear, makes me sleep on old straw for a bed, she demeans me at every turn! If it wasn't for the maids I would be living off stale bread and water!"

"What you may or may not realize is that girl does care about you. I've got a good eye for reading people; it comes with the rank and sergeant's stripes. And believe it or not she does like you. I also believe that under that veneer of arrogance lies a sweet, sensitive girl with self-esteem issues. And, as you may have inferred is also very jealous, in addition to having a hair-trigger temper."

Crosby shrugged.

"Now, if you're going to ask me why she decides to show her affection by abusing you, you're out of luck, it must be a local thing."

That calmed down Saito.

"Crosby-san, the reason I asked for you is that Louise said there is a ball tonight."

"So I heard. She's apparently going to round up some fancy monkey suit for me to wear. So what?"

"She told me that as her familiar I have to dance with her."

"That's usually what happens at fancy dress balls. At least the balls I remember involved dancing."

"But I don't know how to dance."

He stared at the teenager.

"Seriously? You never danced at prom?"

Saito flushed.

"Nobody asked me. So I was wondering…"

Crosby sighed.

"Okay kid, I'm no expert but I can show you the basics so you don't crush her toes."

He looked over to Siesta.

"Hey, kiddo, can I borrow you for a minute? Saito here needs a dance partner."

_"Kyaaa!"_

**(That evening, in the kitchen)**

Crosby stood in front the mirror feeling vaguely ridiculous. His evening clothes consisted of a dolman that was midnight blue with gold embroidered piping, with breeches were of a lighter blue with red piping down the seam. He had smiled at the irony, given his old unit's opinion of cannon cockers. He had a crimson sash across his middle, his feet were encased in knee-high black riding boots and he had a cloak the same color as his tunic flung over one shoulder. The white lace cravat around his neck he had to enlist the help of Marteau to tie. It was a dirty little secret in his old life that both his dress tie and formal mess bow tie were both clip-ons. He adjusted the tie and looked back at his reflection. It could have been worse, at least it still had a vaguely military feel to it, even if it didn't have the familiar feel of his Zulu Squad kit.

"Ah, there you see my friend, now you look like a proper noble!"

Crosby turned to see the chef grinning at him.

"Which contrasts to how I feel, which is ridiculous."

He glanced at the box holding his kit, and Marteau held up a reassuring hand.

"Not to worry, my friend, you possessions will be safe. Now, get out of my kitchen and flirt with all the pretty ladies; chef's orders!"

He grinned.

"Alright, don't want to be responsible for you burning the soufflé."

As Crosby made his way through the party, he felt uncomfortably aware of the attention he was gathering. Not his clothes, if anything his eveningwear was muted and low-key compared to what the more flamboyant outfits he saw the others wearing. He could hear the students whispering.

"Look, that's him! He's the one who brought in the thief!"

"That's the Zero's bodyguard? I want one like him!"

All the attention, and most of it female, made him very self-conscious and uncomfortable. Fortunately there was an announcement and all attention was pulled elsewhere.

"Presenting her royal highness, the Crown Princess of Tristain, Princess Henrietta!"

Looking over to her made the soldier's jaw drop. Gone was the teenager who was a BFF of the pinkette, and in her place was a beautiful young lady whose regal bearings made her every bit a princess. He couldn't even focus on her dress. He closed his eyes.

"Focus, sergeant, you're not some FNG at the JROTC winter ball."

He looked around trying to see if he could spot Louise.

"Sir Robert, may I have this dance?"

He turned around and saw the princess holding out her gloved hand expectantly. He made a swooping bow and took her hand.

"As you wish, my lady."

The music started and the dancing began. Crosby tried to focus on the dance steps trying to remember the last time he was at an NCO ball. It was hard to focus when a pretty girl is gazing at you like the day's catch. She smiled.

"You are doing fine, Sir Crosby."

She must have seen the quizzical look on his face.

"Your face gives you away, Sir Crosby. You are clearly a soldier, but tonight you should enjoy yourself and not treat this like a mission."

She looked down at his tunic.

"You look very handsome and dashing in your new clothes, my Louise has a good eye for that."

Out of his peripheral vision the soldier saw a pink head. Sure enough, there was Louise, looking more mature, even attractive in her formal gown, and was dancing with Saito. Both of them looked like they were enjoying themselves. Then Crosby remembered what was said earlier.

**_"…enjoy the small moments of comfort that come your way. For it will not always be this easy." _**

He was pulled from his thoughts as the princess lead him away from the ballroom floor and through an open patio door. He noticed that others noticed their departure.

"Your highness, not that I don't appreciate your company, but people will talk."

Henrietta led him to a remote bench.

"That is the idea."

She saw the worried look on his face and laughed lightly.

"No, Sir Crosby, it's not like that. I need to tell you something, and it needs to be away from prying eyes. I fear that war is coming to Tristain, and I need your help to stop it."

He raised an eyebrow and remembered the other part of his dream.

"What do you need me to do, your highness?"

"I am sending Louise to meet with a contact of mine in Tristainia, he will have information that can help stop this war. I want you to accompany her as her bodyguard."

He stood at attention and saluted.

"You can count on me, ma'am."

Meanwhile in the kitchen Chef Marteau was becoming increasingly flustered. With every tray laden with cakes or canapés that he sent out four more empty trays would come back in. That's when he heard the voices. It was odd, when he paused in his frantic duties to seek out the source it turned out to be coming from a box. The crate that held Sir Crosby the Hammer's belongings. As he pulled the articles out he found that it was the vest that was talking. Upon closer inspection it wasn't the vest that was talking, but a small rectangular box that was making a sound like flatulence, and then more talking.

_"…Repeating, to the US military IFF transponder Romeo Foxtrot ID Eight Six Seven Fife dash Tree Zero Niner, this is callsign Bravo Six transmitting in the blind, we are a three man chalk US Army 33__rd__ Battalion marooned in a place called Tristain with francophone speaking natives, if you read please switch to channel twelve and respond, repeating…"_

Marteau studied the box and notice a small knob on end. As he turned it clockwise, the voices became louder, but as he turned it the other way, they became faint, until with a 'click' the voices stopped altogether. He shrugged, at least the voices had stopped. He very carefully put the box back into the vest and placed the vest back into the crate with the rest of Sir Crosby's belongings. He would try to remember to tell Sir Crosby about the voices.

But Marteau did not see him at the end of the evening. By morning he was frantically looking for Sir Crosby but he was nowhere to be found. One of the faculty members told him that Louise Valliere, her familiar and Sir Crosby all left under the cover of darkness for some secret mission of the princess. He panicked. Both champions of the commoners were gone, and right when their services were needed the most. He shook his head. Poor Siesta was taken that morning as a 'servant' of the lecherous Count Mott. Siesta was as good as lost, who would rescue her, with the Hammer and Sword gone?

_(AN: Oops! Nice job breaking it Marteau LOL. Who indeed will save Siesta's virtue, but we know!_

_ Whew! Now the plot starts to thicken! Hope you guys like it, I've been trying to clean up the published chapters of grammatical errors and inconsistencies so if you see any pm and let me know. _

_Glossary of terms for those curious:_

_Cannon Cocker: derogatory slang for members of the Artillery corps. Also, the red stripe is part of their dress uniform. They were also nicknamed 'red legs.'_

_FNG: F*cking New Guy, self explanatory.)_


	13. Treacherous Ground

_(AN: So since it was confusing for some of the new readers to have a flash forward chapter for a second chapter, I went ahead and moved this to be more in sync with the other chapter. So Secret Mission is now 'Treacherous Ground' and what was Treacherous Ground is now 'Treacherous Ground, Part Deux')_

The odd trio made their way through the city of Tristainia, and it was an odd-looking trio. One was clearly a noble, judging by her appearance and loud, condescending manner and the way she was abusing her servant. She was a teenager with pink hair and wearing the cloak of the Tristain Academy of Magic. Her servant was a boy about her age wearing commoner clothes. The one leading the group was the oddest looking of the three. He was a man with a weather-beaten face and close cropped hair. He also was wearing a cloak, but this one identified him as a chevalier, or noble knight. But he had none of the swagger or condescending manner of most knights, but rather of a veteran of many wars. His armor and weapons were odd, as well. Instead of plate armor of the knight or mailed leather armor of an archer, his was black and white made of some woven fabric. He held his weapon like a crossbow or musket, but it was sleeker and looked to be made of black metal.

Sgt. Crosby scanned the crowd ahead of them and shook his head. It was clear that they were lost, thanks to his charge's directions, or inherent lack thereof. He recognized several landmarks for the second and third time. And they were getting more stares that were less of the curious sort and more of the dangerous sort. His musings were interrupted by a loud outburst from his charge. Apparently when he was brought into this world it was her second attempt to summon a familiar, the first being that teenager Saito. She wisely figured it was easier to dominate a teenager from Tokyo than a battle-hardened soldier. With the help of a promotion to 'knight bodyguard' by Princess Henrietta, his office required him to escort Louise and Saito and make sure no harm came to them on this secret mission. He shook his head and turned around.

"With all due respect to my lady," he said in a voice that indicated the opposite, "between my appearance and your loud mouth we're attracting the attention of everyone in this stinking city. And not the good sort."

Louise paused in her verbal abuse of Saito to glare at her bodyguard.

"Sir Bodyguard Crosby, I am disciplining my familiar, you will not interrupt me!"

He held Louise's glare, and it was another staring contest until she finally yielded.

"15 seconds, a new record for her." Crosby noted to himself. Louise hung her head and murmured in a lower voice.

"I apologize for my outburst, Sir Bodyguard Crosby."

He cleared his throat.

"You should apologize to Saito, my lady." It took him almost a week to adapt his clipped military jargon to the more flowery speech patterns of nobles. She glared at him a second time, and with a huff made a very insincere apology to Saito.

Saito had latched onto the soldier because they were both in the same predicament and apart from the servants at the school Crosby was the only one who treated him like a real human being instead of a "familiar'. Crosby for his part liked the kid because he reminded him of Pvt. Pete Gobbi, a friend of his from his old life in that sand-ridden hellhole. So it was natural that he would stick up for the kid whenever he could.

"Let's keep moving."

He continued to scan the crowd and saw more people get out of their way and avert their eyes. It wasn't unusual to be stared at. Sgt. Crosby was used to it, even without his helmet and skull baklava he was an imposing figure with his Zulu Squad armor and exotic weapons. After recovering the 'Staff of Destruction,' which turned out to be a M32 MGL grenade launcher, the headmaster Osmond rewarded him with the aforementioned weapon and a "replenishing spell" so neither the 'Staff of Destruction' nor his P90 submachine gun would run out. Which suited him fine, he was never a big fan of melee fighting. He always thought the bayonet runners in Dubai were nuts for bringing knives to a gunfight. His musing were interrupted by Louise pointing at a blacksmith shop.

"There!" she chirped in a loud voice, "That is where her highness said our contact would be!"

"Perhaps my lady should speak a little louder," growled Crosby, "because your last outburst wasn't heard by the people of ALBION!"

He snarled the last words two inches from Louise's face, his normally stoic demeanor gone with his increased frustration. Her eyes went wide at his outburst. That shut her up. His relief was short-lived as her face scrunched up and she started crying. Crosby sighed and looked over to Saito.

"Get her calmed down, I'm going to scout the location."

If the boy was angry at him for upsetting Louise, he didn't show it and curtly nodded. For all the abuse that snotty brat heaped onto the boy, Crosby could tell that Saito cared for her, possibly even liked her. For all he knew it could be mutual; all the abuse was her twisted way of showing affection. She certainly seemed very jealous whenever her familiar earned the attentions and affections of the opposite sex. He carefully approached the shop and glanced in. It was a typical shop with weapons and armor scattered about. The blacksmith was stooped over an anvil beating on a blade.

"Be with you in a minute." The blacksmith said without turning around.

Crosby stared at the blacksmith, amazed that he knew someone was there without turning around. But there was something else. Something in blacksmith's mannerisms and voice seemed familiar. Then the blacksmith turned around and froze as both men recognized each other. Even with the salt-and-pepper beard and stained leather smock Crosby knew who he was.

"Konrad? Colonel, sir?"

The blacksmith cocked his head to one side.

"Crosby?"

At the sound of his old CO's voice, Crosby stiffly stood at attention and saluted.

"Colonel, Sgt. Crosby reporting, sir!"

Konrad smiled and help out his hand.

"At ease, sergeant. If you hadn't noticed, we're not in Dubai anymore."

As he approached his former CO emotions welled up inside Crosby, and he grabbed Konrad in a hug.

"I'll admit it; it's good to see another member of the Damned 33rd."

Konrad disengaged from the bro-hug.

Likewise, Sergeant. How did you get here?"

"It's a long story, sir. But the gist of it is that I bought the farm, saw a white light, and ended up here." He chuckled. "I've put my skills to use and became a knight on a quest to save the day. How did you get here, sir?"

A haunted look came over his face. The memories came back to him in a flash. He was sitting in his easy chair, on the patio with the balcony overlooking the sandstorm ruined Dubai. The previous day he had met with Robert Darden, the reporter, and gave him the recording to broadcast on the outskirts of the city. The last thing he said to Robert was to encourage the reporter's pet project of broadcasting radio throughout the city to help boost morale among the troops and civilians. He had written his final orders to the 33rd exhorting them to ride out the storm, to survive, to hold the line. The last thing he had done was write a letter to his son Jeremy. Wearing his dress uniform, he watched the sun set over the city skyline. For a moment his resolve waivered, but then all the guilt came rushing back over him. Such hubris, to think that he could lead an evacuation column in the middle of a sandstorm, to think one could save civilians by killing them when their only crime was dying of thirst, to think that he could play the hero one last time. Such hubris cost the lives of 1200 men, women, and children. Not to mention the mutiny that ensued. He put the M9 handgun up to his temple, and without hesitation pulled the trigger.

All he saw was a white light, then a voice, a soft feminine voice, spoke.

**_"Colonel John Konrad, the warrior with a conscience. So many have suffered, but your suffering was the greatest, all because you wanted to help. To be the savior. But instead you were cast as the villain."_**

"Who are you? And what do you want?"

**_"Who I am is of little consequence. I am here to grant you a boon. I will give you that which you want the most. I give you peace."_**

Konrad jolted himself back to reality. He smiled thinly at Crosby.

"Let's just say I ended up here the same way you did. I woke up here, or rather in a forest not too far from here. Befriended a nice elf gal in the forest and found work as a blacksmith."

He was interrupted by someone coming into the shop; it was Saito and Louise. It looked like the boy had calmed her down, but she was still sniffling and stifling small sobs. She also wouldn't look Crosby or Konrad in the eye. She started to say something but Crosby knelt down to her eye level and spoke.

"Look, my lady, I apologize for my outburst, it's just that I worry for your safety."

She blinked back some tears and nodded once.

"It's just when you snarl like that it scares me."

He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I promise I won't scare you like that again, okay?"

Louise wiped her eyes and smiled at him. That was all the assurances he needed. He noticed the look of concern on Saito's face for Louise, and decided to poke the hornet's nest.

"You know kid, you handle conflict well, maybe I should put you in charge of babysitting detail. At least it will get you more face time with your girlfriend."

Louise glared at Crosby and started to beat her tiny fists against his tactical vest.

"Stupid! Boorish! Bodyguard! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid. And! MY! FAMILIAR! IS! NOT! MY! BOYFRIEND!"

Saito looked mortified, but Crosby just watched her ineffectually pounding on his chest with an amused smirk. When Louise had finally exhausted herself Crosby turned back to Konrad.

I suppose introductions are in order. The violent little pink-haired pipsqueak is my charge, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, and this is her familiar Saito Hiraga."

Crosby noticed Konrad perked up at the mention of Louise's name.

"A pleasure to meet you both. My name is Konrad, and I have information for someone matching your name. But we should speak of that in private, away from prying ears."

He noticed Saito was staring at him.

"Are you the Colonel John Konrad? Commander of the Damned 33rd Infantry Battalion?"

Konrad smiled.

"It would appear as if I have a fanboy, even here. Yes I am Konrad, but no I am not a Colonel or a commander any more. It's just John Konrad. All I command right now is a forger's bellows and a hammer and anvil. Speaking of which," he turned back to his work.

"I need to finish this blade before it sets. My quarters are upstairs, please make yourself at home and I will be done shortly. Then we have much to discuss."

_(AN: So I think this helps the flow of the story better than making it a flash forward. Initially when I wrote the story I meant to make it more of a series of vignettes rather than a coherent story, and I've had some readers complain that having this chapter at the beginning was confusing.)_


	14. Treacherous Ground, Part Deux

Saito stared for a long time at display case. Konrad's quarters above the shop were a simple affair, a room that was at one time the attic. On one end was a wood-burning stove that doubled as a kitchen, on the other end was a small bed with a metal chest at the foot of the bed. There was a sitting area in the middle with a threadbare couch and a small bookcase by the circular stairwell that went down to the shop. On the bookcase there were a couple of old books about the history of Tristain and Helkeginia, and a display case with medals earned by the former commander of the 'Damned 33rd'.

"Incredible, he has the Legion of Merit, the Defense Superior Service Medal, and Congressional Medal of Honor!"

Louise walked over and stared at the medals.

"Are those high honors where you come from?"

"High honors? These are some of the highest honors any soldier can get, and now we're in his quarters."

He had unconsciously grabbed one of the pinkette's hands, and she looked shocked, and started to blush. Crosby was standing off to the side and had been flipping through one of the books but was watching it. He knew it. The pink-haired noble might treat the teenager from Tokyo like a dog or 'familiar', but she did have feelings for him. Then she ruined the moment. She frowned and threw down his hand.

"Stupid dog!" she huffed. "I was addressing Sir Bodyguard Crosby."

Crosby for the second time that day decided to poke the hornet's nest.

"Now, now, my lady is that any way to treat your boyfriend."

She flushed pinker than her hair and seethed. She marched over and started beating on his leg with her fist.

"Stupid! Bodyguard! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! For! The! Last! Time! That! Dog! Is! NOT! MY! BOYFRIEND!"

"Am I interrupted a lover's quarrel, sergeant?"

Konard's voice came up from the stairwell as he climbed the stairs. He had removed his apron and was now dressed on a patched but clean peasant shirt and his olive green utilities.

Crosby glanced down and saw that Louise looked mortified. He grinned.

"You heard that, sir?"

The former colonel chuckled.

"I'm surprised the king of Germania didn't hear it. That's quite a temper you have there, Miss Vallière."

He gestured to the couch.

"I'm afraid my humble accommodations are not what a Tristain noble is accustomed, but you are welcome to sit. What I have to say could take a while."

After Louise and Crosby sat down on the couch (she forced poor Saito to sit on the floor by her) Konrad unfolded his tale.

Crosby closed his eyes. The Kingdom of Albion, the Reconquista, Oliver Cromwell, Prince Wales, all these names and locations that had an uncanny resemblance to their Earth counterparts was too much.

"With respect, sir, if your friend Prince Wales is the key to stopping the Reconquista, why not tell her directly?"

He gestured out the window to a large palace visible above the city's skyline.

"Why did she send us on this wild-goose chase?"

Konrad smiled.

"And I was going to ask her the same thing. My guess is that she's being watched, and doesn't want Cromwell's spies knowing about me, also I suspect she has a history with Prince Wales, and she knows that the prince's enemies know, so she doesn't want to put him in unnecessary danger. I was also given this."

He help up an parchment envelope with a highly ornate seal and handed it to Louise, she recognized it as the official seal of the House of Tudor in Albion.

"Prince Wales entrusted me with this letter, stating that if these Reconquista people found out they would use it as leverage to unseat him from power. When Princess Henrietta contacted me saying that you were coming in her stead as her confidant and friend, I figure you should have it."

Louise looked at the letter.

"Why would a simple letter be so damaging to the prince?"

"It's no simple letter, Miss Vallière, it's a love letter. Flowing purple prose, the declarations of undying love, even came with a fancy ring."

The pinkette's eyes widened in shock.

"How dare you imply that my friend her highness Princess Henrietta was having a fling with a noble whose country is a sworn enemy of Tristain?"

Konrad shrugged.

"Read it for yourself if you don't believe me."

"What!? You mean you opened the letter and read it? That is uncouth!"

Louise furiously waved the envelope at Konrad until the letter fluttered down by where Saito was sitting, who picked it up. Louise was too fixated on arguing with Konrad.

"Miss Vallière, I understand your anger, but for what it's worth the letter was already opened and the prince volunteered information concerning its contents."

Louise was about to respond when Saito, who had been scanning through the letter, interrupted.

"Wow, you're right, Colonel Konrad, with all the juicy stuff in here it's a regular political hand grenade!"

The pink-haired girl turned and glared at her familiar, Crosby took an involuntary step back, whenever she got red in the face and had veins pulsating on her forehead, it mean that bad things were going to happen.

"HOW DARE YOU VIOLATE THE PRIVACY OF HER HIGHNESS YOU DOG!"

She snatched the letter out of his hands and kicked him with such fury that he went flying across the room, crashing into the woodstove. Before she could cause more damage Crosby pulled her off her feet and held her pinned under his left arm.

"I'm almost positive I'm getting a case of déjà vu." the sergeant thought to himself.

"Unhand me this instant! I order you to release me!"

"No."

"What?!"

"You heard me, I said no, I am not releasing you until you control that hair-trigger temper of yours."

She squirmed under his grasp, suddenly she remembered where she was and looked up with a horrified expression on her face. Konrad was still standing there with a bemused look on his face.

"Not to worry, Miss Vallière, it was an old stove anyways."

When she calmed down he released the pinkette and let her continue to talk to Konrad while the sergeant walked over to the other side of the room. He pulled Saito out of the demolished remains of the stove and dusted the soot off his shirt.

"Kid, you really need to not provoke her like that. I'm not always going to be around to save your ass."

When he got back to the sitting area, Konrad had finished giving Louise instructions on what to tell Henrietta.

"I still don't get why we have to play postmaster for the princess, sir."

Konrad shrugged and walked over to an end table that had a pitcher and poured himself some water.

"Trust me when I say this that this whole situation feels like a badly written political thriller."

Crosby and Saito snickered, but Louise just looked puzzled.

"What are our next steps, Mr. Konrad?"

"I have many clients in Albion, including the prince. I intend to travel to Londinium in a few days, I can get word to him and see if he and the princess can meet in some neutral area like Tarbes. Maybe he can form a coalition of nobles in Albion that want peace with Tristain, and won't be opposed to the idea of their prince marrying into the Tristain royal family. With a bit of luck we can help this prince squash the revolution and maintain peace. There is one other thing."

He took one of the old books off the shelf and flipped through the pages.

"Legend tells of a 'steel dragon that can be dominated by men' residing in the Desert, protected by the elves that live there."

Konrad opened the book to a certain page and pointed it out to Crosby. It was a woodcut, highly stylized, and crude depiction of what appeared to be a four-engined airplane.

"Now, I don't know about you, sergeant, but I suspect this 'steel dragon' is actually an airplane of sorts. If it is, and our little plan fails and war comes to Tristain, I want all the help we can get."

Crosby took the book and saluted.

"Roger that, sir."

It was nearly dusk by the time the trio left the blacksmith shop, with Konrad standing at the shop entrance bidding them goodbye. The sergeant paused to shake his former CO's hand.

"You sure you don't want to come with us, sir?"

Konrad smiled and shook his head.

"No, sergeant, I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with younger company. I'm getting too old for combat, let alone these quests and adventures."

He looked back over his shop.

"This shop, being able to make a sword or horseshoes, that's something I always wanted. The lady in the white light promised me something that I never could find in my old life. Peace. I hope you understand, sergeant."

"Not at all sir. Although I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't mind having more adult supervision. Some days I feel like I'm in a kindergarten, not Hogwarts."

Konrad chuckled.

"It's the Tristain Academy of Magic, Sir Bodyguard Crosby. Get your fictions straight. And take care."

"Same to you, sir."

It was almost midnight when they arrived back at the Academy of Magic. Crosby was in a foul mood, he suggested they stop for the night at an inn and make an early start in the morning. Louise had insisted that they continue on, saying that she had an exam the following morning that she could not miss. The fact that she hadn't bothered studying for the test was a pointless argument to bring up. So all three travelers were sound asleep as the carriage passed by the Charming Fairies Inn, they did not see the black AH-J Little Bird with welded-on 'hillbilly armor' parked by the tavern's stable area. The driver noticed it and thought it was an odd-looking airship, but continued on. He also noted that the tavern seemed particularly loud that night, and was thankful the little mistress had opted not to stop for the night.

Lugo woke up, and at first was disoriented because he did not recognize his surroundings. Then it all came back to him; the angry refugee mob attacking him, lynching him, killing him, the green-haired lady in the white light, the manor with the lecherous old man. Then he looked up and saw a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes ever. The maid, Siesta was gazing at him with unalloyed adoration.

"Good Morning, Mr. Lugo, did you sleep well?"

He stretched and sat up on the cot in the servant's quarters.

"I told you, sweetie, its John, no need to be so formal."

He flashed her one of his trademarked toothsome grin. She smiled back, and let out another squeal that sounded like _kyaaa_. John continued to grin. He wasn't sure how she made that noise, but it was absolutely cute when she did it. He could get used to that.

"Oh John, you're so wonderful, you are my champion!"

She paused with a start and turned around.

"I almost forgot about your breakfast, it's just leftovers."

He looked down, it was a mix of pastries, fresh buttered bread and poached eggs, and smelled wonderful.

"It looks delish, Siesta, thanks!"

He took up a knife and fork and started to dig in.

"I could get used to this, 3 hots and a cot, and breakfast in bed delivered by a pretty maid."

She smiled at him.

"I have my other duties, so I have to go, but if you need anything just ask."

She left, and as he left he heard her squeal again. He shook his head, grinning. He could probably start a drinking game on the number of times that pretty maid made that noise. He received quite the hero's welcome when he arrived with Siesta the night before. Of course, riding up in a fully kitted out white horse might have had something to do with it. The head chef had fixed a massive supper for him, and all of the servants thought he was the hero of the day.

And then there was Siesta. That girl was something very special, the hopeless romantic in him felt like it was love at first sight, and hoped that it the feelings were mutual. He could get used to this gig.

When he was done with his breakfast, he got dressed, the last accessory was his TAR-21 and his baseball cap, and left the servant's wing to explore. This Tristain Academy was quite the place. It was laid out like a Pentagon, with the large tower in the middle and five smaller towers stretching out to the five points with five small angular courtyards in between.

Crosby also awoke in strange surroundings. He was accustomed to his Spartan cot, and now awoke in an honest to god bedroom. His new quarters were a reflection of his new status as a Knight-Bodyguard. It wasn't as lavishly appointed as Louise's room or Kirche's, but it was a marked improvement on his old quarters in Dubai. It would take getting used to. He was still digesting the reunion with his old commanding officer, Colonel John Konrad. He got up and dressed in his uniform, leaving his helmet and baklava behind. He also left his P90 and 'Staff of Destruction' hanging on a peg on the wall. As it was he was just getting breakfast.

In the dining area he ran across Louise and Saito, and she was in a good mood, because Saito was not in a collar and eating real food. And she didn't even make him eat on the floor. The pinkette smiled and waved at him.

"Sir Bodyguard Crosby! The maid Siesta was looking for you! I think she is in the kitchen."

He nodded. Inside the kitchen Chef Marteau greeted him warmly.

"Welcome back, Sir Crosby the Hammer!"

He paused and there was a thoughtful look on his face.

"There was something I was going to tell you, but it slipped my mind with all the madness."

Crosby raised an eyebrow.

"Something happen when I was gone?"

"Well, the evening you left Siesta was taken by the Count Mott-"

Marteau held up a hand to forestall the rising panic on the soldier's face.

"-But she is safe now. I admit I was out of sorts but thankfully her knight in shining armor saved her."

The sergeant was relieved that the cute little maid was safe, but was perplexed.

"Who saved her?"

"Well, funny enough, he is, ah, there he is! Welcome to the savior of our dear Siesta!"

Crosby turned to greet the newcomer, but his mood changed the instant he put eyes on him. He had only seen pictures, or seen him from a distance. In the sights of his scope. But he would never forget the face. Sgt. John Lugo, the sniper of Delta Squad. The squad lead by that murderous bastard Captain Walker. For his part Lugo froze and appeared to recognize him.

"You." Was all Crosby could say as he seethed with anger and hatred.

_(AN: Okay, so I've done a bit of retconning to fit the story, some of the dialog in the earlier chapters wasn't syncing up to the later bits, so I've fixed it. The plot now has officially thickened. One could even say congealed. Stay tuned for the next chapter, and yes, I'm horrible for ending it on a cliffhanger. Don't worry, Lugo and Crosby will survive this encounter and resolve their issues. Without guns, I promise.)_


	15. Preventative Diplomacy

"You."

Lugo froze. He almost didn't recognize the soldier standing in front of him, wearing a dark navy blue cloak like all the other students at this magical school. He almost didn't recognize him without the helmet, the distinctive orange goggles and the skull baklava. But the black uniform with the white and orange shoulder pads, stenciled with the stylized logo of the Damned 33rd, he recognized from Dubai. This soldier was from Zulu Squad, the elite fighting force that was the final solution to any problem of the Damned 33rd. And he looked pissed. Not that he exactly blamed him.

The old turmoil of emotions boiled within Crosby. All the hurt and anguish came rushing back, after being buried for what seemed a lifetime ago in Dubai. His soldier's instincts kicked in and he drew his Desert Eagle sidearm, ignoring the cries of alarm from the chef and servants. His vision narrowed to a tunnel, and he was only vaguely aware that there were other people in the room.

Lugo was fucked. He knew it was too much to think that he could get out of Dubai without a reckoning. He cursed himself for leaving his TAR-21 in his quarters after his exploratory expedition. All he could do was stare into the barrel of that massive handgun that the soldier was leveling at him. He heard a scream and saw the maid Siesta running towards him, crying. She was tugging at the Zulu Squad soldier's sleeve, speaking in rapid-fire French.

"Please, what are you doing Sir Crosby, you can't shoot him, he saved my life! He's my friend, like you."

When she saw the soldier wasn't responding, she stepped in the line of fire, in front of Lugo, effectively blocking his view. That got his attention.

"Get out of the way, Siesta." The Zulu Squad soldier growled.

"No." The maid replied flatly. "I don't know what Mr. Lugo did to earn your ire, but it can't be worth killing him over. And if you really want to kill him, then you are not the noble I thought you were, and you won't feel bad about killing a lowly maid in the process."

Conflict ran through Crosby's mind. The killing edge and bloodlust was blunted. He started to release the tension in his finger off the trigger of his gun, when the Delta Force Operator did something completely unexpected.

Lugo gently took Siesta by the shoulders and pushed her out of the way. He turned back to face the soldier called Crosby.

"Listen, I know you want to kill me. And I know you would be justified in doing so. Honestly I can't think of any excuse that would absolve me of all the horrible things my team did. The white phosphorus incident, the water trucks, the Radio Tower." He smiled thinly. "I suppose I could give the cop-out of 'I was just following orders,' but even that rings hollow. Adams and I knew Captain Walker had let go of the rope, he wasn't the same after the Gate Massacre, he was hallucinating, claiming that corpses were alive, claiming to hear Konrad's voice on a broken radio. At any point I could have had Adams relieve him of command and either retreated or surrendered to the 33rd."

He sighed, defeated and deflated.

"But we didn't and I didn't. So if you think it will help, I won't blame you."

Crosby was stunned. He had figured the soldier would cower, plead, deny, or angrily hurl counter-accusations. Instead he seemed to be wracked with the same guilt he carried within himself.

**_"Private Pete Gobbi would not want you to murder a man in the name of vengeance."_**

It was the voice of the Lady. Now that, he thought, was hitting below the belt. All these thoughts passed through his mind in the fraction of a second.

He lowered his weapon, and holstered it.

"No, Lugo. I won't. Because killing you won't bring back Gobbi, Bowles, Tebby, McPherson or any of the other guys your team killed. Those were not faceless monsters, or even mere soldiers, they were my friends, my brothers-in-arms."

He sighed, and felt tired and old all of a sudden.

"In the end there weren't any black-hatted villains back in that sandstorm-wracked hellhole. Only misguided fools on both sides blindly following orders."

He walked off without another word, out of the kitchen just as Louise and Saito walked in. He ignored the cries of Siesta, the shouts of the chef, the pinkette and her familiar. He needed time to process it. And he wanted to be alone.

It was evening when Louise found Crosby, brooding alone outside the school, sitting at the edge of the forest under a tree. She noticed that his handgun was next to him, and there were tiny gold colored metal cylinders on the ground. If she remembered properly, Crosby had called them 'shells' when she saw similar ones on the ground after the epic battle with Fouquet and her Earth Golem. She sat next to him, and he glanced briefly her way but did not acknowledge her existence otherwise. After a long awkward moment she spoke.

"The House of Vallière is a noble one, and it has boasts a long line of powerful mages."

The soldier again glanced her way, but still said nothing.

"My father, the viscount of Vallière, is one of the most powerful Square Mages. There was much anticipation and many great expectations when I was enrolled at the Tristain Academy of Magic."

Her voice started to crack.

"Instead of earning the title of Louise, the scion of a family of great mages, they call me the Zero because I'm horrible at magic."

She broke down and started crying, tears streaming down her face. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and heard the soldier's voice.

"You summoned two familiars."

She looked up and saw Crosby looking at her. She blinked back tears.

"Theoretically I only summoned one since you can only have one familiar. You didn't count."

She saw the hint of a smile on his face.

"Regardless that's quite the feat. That makes you a Two at least."

She spluttered as she laughed and cried at same time.

"Stupid Bodyguard!"

She half-heartedly bobbed him on the shoulder with her tiny fist. She dried her eyes.

"I don't pretend to know what happened between you and Mr. Lugo, but I do know what it's like to carry a burden and feel alone."

Called it, the sergeant thought. Hidden depths and low self-esteem which she hides under a veneer of arrogance and a volcanic temper. His thoughts were interrupted by his stomach growling. Apparently his stomach had gotten spoiled over the last couple of days, being fed at regular intervals will do that.

"Sounds like a noble bodyguard skipped breakfast and lunch. Shall I go fetch you something to eat?"

He shook his head, took his sidearm and secured it, then stood up, holding out his hand.

"Perish the thought. My lady should not demean herself with menial tasks."

She accepted it and stood up as well, following him back to the school grounds.

_(AN: This one is short because it felt forced. I'm not sure I got the feel right, because I churned it out very quickly last night and just glanced through it this morning before posting it. So now the 33__rd__ and Delta Squad aren't shooting each other on sight, what's next? Cats and Dogs cohabitating and producing unnatural offspring?_

_And remember when i sent out the memo about the TPS reports and the fact that there were going to be 20 chapters total? Yeah, I kind of didn't get the memo, there are at least another 15 chapters to go (or more) so if you could just bear with me, that would be greeeat._

_All seriousness aside, how did this pan out/cop out? Good, Bad, Meh? LMK what you think, and hope you enjoy the next coming chapters!)_


	16. Preventative Diplomacy, Part Deux

The Zulu Squad soldier didn't know what fed his appetite as he dug into his food with great gusto. He had arrived at the dining hall just as supper was being served, and ended up ordering everything on the menu. Amazing, he thought to himself.

He remembered not even a week ago he was still in Dubai, and dinner over there consisted of an emergency protein bar and 8 ounces of lukewarm water that always tasted like sand. And after the CIA destroyed the water trucks, all of the surviving members of the 33rd had pared back their water rations even further to provide water for the surviving thirsty refugees.

Yes, I could get used to this world, he thought as he took another bite of some meat pie smothered in rich-tasting sauce followed by a drink of ale. It meant he would have to bump up his exercise regime to offset the increased calorie intake, but he didn't mind, if it meant eating nice food. Louise was sitting across the table, and he caught her looking at him as he ate, and she giggled.

"You're as bad as my familiar when he gets hungry."

He wiped his mouth on a silk napkin.

"I guess I deserved that. Remind me not to skip breakfast and lunch again. Speaking of which, where is Saito?"

"Oh, when I left looking for you I think he was chatting up Marteau and Mr. Lugo."

That brought something back up to the surface. He finished the last of the pie and placed his napkin back on the table.

"That reminds me, I have to do something."

He started to stand, then smirked.

"Will my lady grant leave to her brooding and glutinous bodyguard?"

The pinkette smiled at his humor, but there was a flash of worry across her face. He held up a reassuring hand.

"Not to worry, I'm not going to kill Lugo; I just wanted to clear the air between us."

She nodded once.

"Very well, you are free to go, Sir Crosby."

He stood and bowed before leaving.

Sure enough, he found the Delta Force sergeant in the Earth courtyard with Saito, with Lugo field-cleaning his TAR-21 and Saito helping him. If the overheard conversation was anything to go off of they were comparing notes on video games and their favorite TV shows. Lugo's voice carried.

"Yeah, I don't know about that, dude. I'm as big a fan of jap animation as the next guy, but some of those shows have some really far-fetched premises. All of them seem to revolve around some nerdy everyman being transported to some far-off place where he has a herd of impossibly beautiful women who desperately want to have kids with him."

He was so absorbed in oiling the action slide of his rifle that he didn't see the odd look Saito was giving him. The kid shook himself out of it when Lugo looked back up.

"…Not to say I don't like them, it's just a bit unrealistic, that's all."

He looked up and saw Crosby standing there. Immediately he went on edge. With his weapon stripped he was unarmed and out in the open. The Zulu Squad soldier held up his hands.

"It's okay, Sgt. Lugo. I'm not here to start another war. I just…left somewhat abruptly so I thought we could clear the air."

Lugo understood, and turned over to Saito.

"Hey dude, why don't you go check on your mistress, the pink-haired girl?"

If the teen had any objections he did not voice them, but got up and left. Crosby watched the kid leave, then turned back to Lugo.

"So, do you want to go first?"

Siesta was in a panic, she had heard from Louise's familiar Saito that Sir Crosby wanted to speak to Mr. Lugo, alone. Even though Saito did not seem worried, she was deathly afraid of what would happen. Ever since she saw a man whom she thought was a kind noble pull a weapon with the intention of killing her savior, she was afraid. And those eyes that were once so kind were so hard and cold. She shivered at the recollection of it. She hoped she would get there in time.

Crosby took the hit on the side of his face, barely causing his head to turn. He grinned wolfishly at his opponent.

"C'mon sergeant, I said hit me, not tickle me. Jeez I have a paralyzed grandmother that hits harder than you. Now hit me."

His opponent threw a cross punch that connected with his jaw, this one rocked his head back. He touched his lip and saw a trickle of blood on his fingers and smiled.

"That's more like it, soldier. Now my turn. Any preferences?"

Lugo, who was sporting a bright red ear, grinned at the Zulu Squad sergeant.

"Two request; no hitting the ear! And not the face."

He pointed up drawing an imaginary circle around his face.

"Don't want any scars ruining this perfection."

Crosby shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

And he unleashed a sharp uppercut right into Lugo's solar plexus, causing the Delta Operator to double over, wheezing and laughing.

"Wow, shit! That one nearly hurt."

Crosby laughed. It seemed barbaric that two 21st century soldiers who were in all other areas civilized would resolve their differences with something so crude as fisticuffs, but Lugo suggested it. And it was working. Crosby could feel the anger and hatred ebbing with each punch he took and gave.

He was about to make a snide comment when he felt something connect with the back of his head. His Kevlar helmet and cushioning system absorbed most of the impact, but he was sure something hit him. He disengaged from his horseplay with Lugo and spun around, only to see Siesta clutching a large cast iron skillet. Lugo spoke up first.

"Hey, it's okay babe, we were just horsing around."

Her blue eyes widened, no mean feat given their size.

"Y-you mean?"

Crosby nodded.

"In our world, this is our equivalent of dueling."

Immediately she flushed. She let the offending pan slip out of her hand and dropped to her knees, profusely apologizing.

"Oh, Sir Crosby! I'm so sorry! Please don't beat me! I just didn't want see Mr. Lugo get hurt!"

The Zulu Squad sergeant smiled and knelt down to Siesta' level and gently pulled her back to her feet.

"It's okay, Siesta. Mr. Lugo and I have sorted out our differences."

He looked over the top of her head to make eye contact with Lugo.

"And although we aren't going to be taking long walks on the beach anytime soon," Lugo smirked at that comment, "we've come to a ceasefire and even a possible alliance."

She looked up at him, and her eyes widened again.

"Sir Crosby! You're bleeding!"

He smiled, inadvertently causing the cut in his lip to reopen.

"It's just a flesh wound. Why don't you run along and Mr. Lugo and I will get cleaned up."

She smiled, and without warning grasped the Zulu Squad sergeant's waist in a tight hug.

"Oh! I'm so so happy! Sir Crosby and my savior Mr. Lugo are friends! This is the best day ever!"

She let out a particularly loud _kyaaa_ and skipped off.

Crosby smiled at the silliness of the situation, and stood up.

"Hey sarge? I've been meaning to ask. I've heard her make that noise, what the hell does it mean? Other than that fact it's obvious she's really happy about something."

The Zulu Squad sergeant shook his head.

"No idea, sergeant. I've been here almost a week and there some things you're probably better off not knowing the answer to. I'm not even sure how they can make that sound. C'mon, let's get cleaned up."

_(AN: So Crosby and Lugo have made up, hopefully to everyone's satisfaction. I always visualized people like Lugo and Crosby sorting out their differences Fight Club style. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, and a special thanks to Jeggetts for planting a certain idea in my head concerning Siesta. If there are any things you want to see in this story like shout outs, references, tropes, etc, write it in the review or PM me with it. Worst I'll say is no. Next will be another interlude chapter. About what, says you? Well, says I, remember when I said that there would be 3 more characters of _Spec Ops: The Line_ that would crop up and that's it? Well, I lied LOL. Next chapter we find out what happened to a certain CIA agent after he bought the farm in Dubai. _


	17. The Devil's Disciple

CIA Agent Daniels felt the burning ebb, leaving only the dull throbbing after effects. His screaming slowly subsided, and when the interrogation room was quiet again, he heard the voice. It was the voice of his interrogator.

"You, Special Agent Daniels, you and I are brothers. Did you know that? We are, and before you discount it, allow me to explain."

He had no idea what they were using to burn his flesh with, although he suspected by the smell it was some sort of combustible fuel. They had blindfolded him as soon as he entered the interrogation chamber, but he could hear the interrogator walking away from him and he heard the sound of a chair scrapping the floor, as if someone was sitting down.

"I too, was captured by your insurgents, early in this little skirmish. I thought I was a pretty tough guy, too. I hacked my way through the sandboarding, I bit my tongue when they brought out the knives."

He paused, and Daniels suddenly felt his flesh melting off his arms and screamed in agony again. When Daniels' cries subsided the interrogator continued.

"But the fire...dammit I screamed like you wouldn't believe. I was ashamed, disappointed, but at least now I understood that each man has his breaking point. I made a vow then that I would make every insurgent and every enemy of the 33rd feel the same pain as I did. And when they break, they will be my brothers. So, Agent Daniels, you are my brother, because we both stared death in the face, and blinked."

"I suppose I was a bit premature, believe it or not we're saving the best for last. Now, you will tell me the location of the CIA's headquarters, so more lives can be saved, so the fighting can end, and so your pain can end. Where is the Nest?"

Daniels fought the urge to speak; he knew their mission was over if he gave up the base location. Then Castavin, Gould and Riggs would be killed. Gould he wouldn't have minded too much if that little shit died. He was the one dissenting opinion when Riggs brought up his plan of destroying the water supply as a means to cover up the 33rd's occupation of Dubai.

In the end he was even questioning Riggs' judgment, saying that Riggs' plan was insane, asking for verification. He hated Gould most because it was his fault that Daniels was in custody. The 33rd ambushed Daniels' cadre as they were making their way through the abandoned shipyards towards the OZ. They killed his team and brought him to the interrogator.

"Please," the interrogator interrupted his drifting thoughts, "continue to scream. Scream to your heart's content. Scream your head off. Any scream will do. You scream, I scream, we all scream, for ice cream!"

He heard his interrogator chuckle.

"The fact is that your screams will help save lives, Agent Daniels. Your screams are being recorded, and will be broadcast throughout Dubai, and will demoralize your insurgents, and lure your fellow CIA agents to an ambush that will result in their inevitable deaths, thereby ending the civil war in Dubai, and saving lives."

"So please," Daniels felt the burning pain on his flesh a third time, even worse than the last. "once more, with feeling!"

Daniels screamed, but his mind was aflame with anger and hatred; anger towards his fellow CIA Agent Gould, hatred towards his tormenters in the 33rd.

Damn them, he his mind screamed, and pleaded with any entity to release him from his torment. Unfortunately for him, there was one such an entity listening, and answered.

Daniels' psyche, or consciousness, or soul or whatever, found himself in the dark. There was a smell of something burning, and indirect orange light like lava or fire. There was a deep rumbling like the clashing of continental plates. It took him a moment to realize it was a chuckle.

**_"Special Agent Thomas Daniels, a man who was following orders that sent him to his torment and eventual death. You thirst for vengeance, but what would you give for it?"_**

"Anything! I will give anything for a chance to get back at those fuckers!"

Daniels' psyche screamed out.

There was a long pause, then an earthquake as the entire floor shook. The entity was laughing.

**_"Your anger and hatred will serve my ends sufficiently. Very well, I will give you the revenge you seek, in exchange you will serve me and burn a world named Helkeginia in my name. Will you do this for me?"_**

"Yesss."

Fire burned through Agent Daniels' veins, and he felt his muscles stretch and fray and his bones crack and reform. The pain was a thousandfold times worse than the burning, or the torture at the hands of the 33rd, and in a fleeting instant the small sliver of Daniels that was sane questioned the wisdom of striking bargains with fell entities and then was extinguished forever. In its place was a twisted creature bent on revenge. It bent its massive head down to look at his hands, seeing gnarled sinewy claws ending in sharp talons.

**_"Arise, my Red Right-Hand Dragon. Arise, Nahkriin!"_**

The creature that once was Thomas Daniels reared its head back and bellowed a roar of pain and anger, hellbent for revenge on the Damned 33rd.

_(AN: And then Special Agent Thomas Daniels was a dragon! More to the point, he is a Dragon to the Big Bad (who is also a dragon), specifically the Ancient Dragon who is the main nemesis in _Familiar Of Zero_. Please mind the incoming hurricane of puns._

_So I am absolutely thrilled, there are over 3,000 hits on this story and the reaction and interest has surpassed my wildest dreams. Mind you my dreams are more mild than wild. Except for that one that involved Miley Cyrus and Megan Fox…_

_*ahem*_

_I'm going to take a couple of days off to catch up on my FOZ reading, and let the creative juices recharge. It seems that me taking anywhere from 2 days to a week off allows me to recover and jump back in and have these marathon writing sessions of churning out a chapter a day, so I hope to post another chapter by the weekend.  
And I'm giving serious consideration to putting the Radioman in this verse, but still trying to find a place to put him in the story. If you like this idea, pm me and let me know your thoughts. And again thank you all for your views/visits/favs/follows/reviews!)_


	18. Author's Note

_(AN: So in watching more of _Familiar Of Zero_, I realized that some inconsistencies. _

_Long story short I majorly screwed up the plot twist with Henrietta and Prince Wales. Serves me right for making assumptions within the_ FOZ_ verse without doing the research. So I will be making some changes to reflect this and help the flow of future chapters. _

_The good news is it looks as if most of the changes will occur in Chapter 14 _Treacherous Ground_, so there won't be a huge detour in the plot. I've made the necessary tweaks to that chapter to help, as well as throwing in some more 'Zero going tsundere on her Familiar' stuff._

_I'm working on the next chapter (aptly titled Applied Force) which will be a very loooong chapter. Like 3-5K long. So it might take a few days to finish. But it will be worth it!_

_Thanks for your patience!_


	19. Too Late The Hero

_(AN: Wow. The chapter '_Applied Force'_ is ballooning into a monster chapter, to such a degree that I've developed a bit of a mental cramp. So I stepped away from it, and did something different. One of fans of this story suggested adding a new character to the story, so I churned this quick drabble out to help relieve the cramping. Hope you enjoy!)_

"Gentleman, it's official, we know the time and place when the CIA will launch an attack and try to steal the water. And we are pretty sure that they will have help from the trio of outsiders."

1st Lieutenant James Gordon let his words sink into the assembled men in what once was a fancy conference ballroom for a five star resort hotel attached to the Aquatic Coliseum, and was now repurposed as the officer's debriefing room. He powered up the slide projector as the lights dimmed.

"We've a couple of minor setbacks in our mission to destroy the CIA's influence on Dubai, but before I get into our strategy, there is something I want to address. I've been hearing whispers in the barracks and in the locker rooms that this Walker is some sort of implacable man who is unstoppable and un-killable. This is patently false."

He clicked a button on the projector, and it pulled up a fiche of Captain Walker's record.

"Our records indicate that this man is one Captain Martin Walker, of the 1st Special Forces Operation Detachment Delta, better known as Delta Force, and for added irony used to be one of us. But being a Delta boy doesn't mean shit. All that means is that he can count to twenty instead of ten like us regular grunts."

Gordon held up a .223 bullet.

"I don't give a damn if this Walker is a Delta boy or a Navy Seal or a goddam wingwiper's concubine, he's human and bleeds like all the rest of us. If you take one of these bullets, and put it in his right eye socket, he will die like anyone else. Now, the primary object is still to defend the water from being raided. I don't need to remind you of the implications of what happens if the CIA succeeds. If we fail the entire city will perish of thirst within weeks, possibly even days. We cannot let that happen. I'm going to be right there alongside you, right there in the sand and the blood and the dirt, and I will only let those bastards take the water over my dead body. Let's do this!"

There were a few cheers and hoots, but the mood sobered quickly as the men filed out.

His musings were interrupted when he saw one of his old NCO's. The grim-faced sergeant was still wearing his black and white Zulu Squad uniform, and nodded as the lieutenant spoke.

"Sgt. Crosby."

The man saluted him.

"Sir."

"As you were. How did the preemptive strike go?"

The sergeant chuckled humorlessly.

"How do you think it went? About as well as all the other raids. They escaped. Martinez said he sent in seven of his best men against those bastards, and they haven't reported back in, so I'm guessing they're all dead."

Gordon shook his head. Sgt. Crosby, callsign _Iceman,_ was the de-facto leader of the 33rd's elite counter-insurgent cadre nicknamed Zulu Squad, and was normally gruff and taciturn under the best of circumstances. But since the last botched operation, he had turned downright grim and single-minded in his quest to destroy Delta.

"I'm going to have you sit this one out, Crosby. I need you to coordinate the last of our squadron of Little Birds, ever since Lt. Bradley bought it in Operation Cockroach."

Gordon wasn't there in Operation Cockroach, but he knew that the last ranking officer died when his chopper was shot down during the operation. He noticed the sergeant wince at the mention of the operation. One of the casualties, a private by the name of Pete Gobbi, was a close friend of Crosby's.

"I'm sorry Robert. Pete was a good kid."

The sergeant shot a glare up at his CO.

"You know he hadn't seen his baby girl since last Christmas, sir? And that bastard Walker didn't just kill him; he threw a sticky grenade on him! Blew him to pieces! What kind of sick bastard does that? The biggest piece I found of him was his left arm and an ear. What the hell am I supposed to give his widow? A flag draped shoebox?"

He sat down in one of the chairs and shook his head.

"Of course I'm assuming we'll survive this. As it is we're running out of officers. I've had to field-promote a lot of lower-ranking NCOs to the officer duty roster."

He smiled grimly.

"If this keeps up pretty soon we'll have privates commanding specialists."

Gordon looked at him for several minutes.

"When was the last time you slept, sergeant?"

Crosby shook his head.

"A while ago, sir. I'm fine, just need some time to process it, that's all."

He stood up.

"Tell Torrez to put more snipers in the rafters on the inside of the coliseum, sir. And reinforce that back door."

Gordon watched the brooding sergeant walk off, and then shook his own head as he left the debriefing room. The last 48 hours had been more brutal than even during the mutiny when Konrad's command squad turned on him. His thoughts were interrupted when he entered the hotel's gymnasium, now repurposed as the armory for the company guarding the coliseum. He greeted some of his men as he made his way over towards his locker and started to gear up.

As he strapped armored greaves to his shins and thighs he heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, Loot, I was always curious, how the hell do we go to the bathroom in this getup?"  
He looked up and grinned.

"Easy, just do what we normally do and piss sand, and then when the mission's over dust it out of the crotch."

Sgt. Connors was a wisecracker from Atlanta, and one of the best soldiers in his command. As the casualties mounted he volunteered to join Gordon and the 'Heavy Support Trooper' cadre, whose origins came from the 33rd's own EOD unit. In the days following the botched evacuation the 33rd's EOD unit used their suits and expertise to find survivors and supplies in the raging sandstorms. And also as heavy squad support in the ensuing chaos of the insurgency.

"I'll see you out there in the killzone sir!"

Connors grinned at his CO as he strapped his baklava in place, decorated with a bright yellow smiley face.

"Eyes wide, cover me!" Gordon growled in his radio as he walked/waddling into the incoming small arms fire.

His jury-rigged armored chest plate absorbed most of the punishment. He felt a mild sting on his elbow, but it didn't seem serious. His AA-12 automatic shotgun was making short work of the insurgents as wave after wave of them threw themselves at the barricaded entrance of the coliseum. If this kept up the firefight should be over any minute now. Suddenly his radio crackled to life.

"Shit, El-tee get your ass in here now! Delta is in the Coliseum, I repeat, Delta is in the Coliseum. We need backup, now!"

Shit, he thought. Quickly he barked into his radio.

"All teams fall back by fireteams on me, we need to secure those trucks. Connors, you think your squad can handle holding the entrance?"

"Piece of cake, El-tee. These insurgents are pussies."

"Roger that, hold the line."

Gordon continued to walk forward, shooting a M249 SAW that he picked up off sandbag emplacement inside. His legs were burning and he felt sweat sting his eyes, but he kept moving forward. Shooting, hoping and praying that the next burst would kill these damned Delta Force fucks. He couldn't believe that they shot their way inside through the back door. Of the fifty soldiers that he assigned to guard the inside, there were just three left, himself included. He heard a blast off to his left. Make that two. He felt a bullet hit the side of his head and almost threw him off balance.

He had to keep moving. If he failed, Dubai would die of thirst. A horrible thought crossed his mind. What if that CIA spook Riggs lied to Walker? What if he hadn't told Walker of his intentions to destroy the water supply to cover up what happened in Dubai? He shook his head. He hoped that wasn't the case. Another bullet struck his chest, this one went through. He could feel blood trickling down his skin inside the suit. The throbbing pain in his head began to subside, and was replaced by a feeling of lightheadedness. He fought the urge to succumb. He had to keep moving, to stop Walker, he had to-

A frag grenade detonated at his feet, and Gordon was no more.

"Got the fucker!" yelled Walker.

When Gordon opened his eyes, he was surrounded by white light. Suddenly in front of him there was a beautiful woman, tall, lithe wearing a wispy thin toga-like garment of purple and gold. She also had hair that seemed swept by an unseen wind. It was also green, which struck him as odd. Her radiant face seemed sad.

**_"Poor Lieutenant James Gordon, I know you wanted to save them, but you couldn't. Do not feel remorse for your failure. Your thread within that Tapestry was woven to a predesigned pattern, one that you could not change. In a way it is better that you died when you did, rather than survive to see the aftermath."_**

"I'm guessing this is Heaven, or something."

She smiled.

**_"You are quite correct. I am the Weaver of Fate; I brought you here because there is another Tapestry, one whose pattern can be changed for the better. Here you can make a difference; here you can change the pattern. And if you accomplish this task, your actions will save thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of innocent lives. And you will know peace thereafter. Will you do this?"_**

He didn't reply, but nodded. She approached him and touched his armored breastplate.

**_Very well, welcome to your eternal reward, Lieutenant Gordon."_**

The next Gordon felt was a drowsy feeling, suns shining, and a cool breeze wafting over his face, as if he were dozing in a hammock on a lazy summer afternoon. Then he was jolted awake by a sudden loud voice right next to him.

_"Beep-Beep-Beep! This just in! With the death of dear old King Jimmy under very suspicious circumstances, the ceasefire between the dissenting nobles of Albion and the Reconquista has officially been cancelled. Nobles who are part of old Ollie Cromwell's dastardly cadre feel free to turn themselves in to any lynch mob that forms outside your castle. In the meantime here's a little tune for you to dance to while you hang!"_

_ 'That's great it starts with an earthquake,_

_birds and snakes, an aeroplane _

_and Lenny Bruce is not afraid_

_Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn_

_World serves its own needs, don't misserve your own needs-'_

Gordon opened his eyes and the oddest sight greeted him. He was in fact in a hammock, and it was a sunny afternoon. But the hammock was situated on the observation deck of some sort of stone building. As his eyes came into focus it looked he was on top of the tower of some old medieval Scottish castle.

Next to him at a heavy wooden desk filled with electronic equipment was a bearded man wearing a red Hawaiian camp shirt talking into a microphone. The man had finished speaking and flipped a knob by one of the machines turning on the music. He then faced the stunned lieutenant.

"Wow, look! Gordon's alive!" He said in a very dramatic voice.

When the lieutenant gave him an odd look, the man shrugged.

"Jeez you young guys don't respect any of the classics."

It was then that Gordon recognized the man by his voice.

"Darden? What the hell are you doing here?"

The man known as Robert Darden, or the Radioman to most of the 33rd, grinned.

"Got my face shot off and ended up here."

"What?"

"Yep, got capped by some obnoxious little shithead sniper, you might have seen him, he was part of a three man wrecking crew that called themselves Delta Force. By the way, nice job letting them steal the water."

Gordon looked shocked.

"You mean they-"

Darden shook his head and laughed.

"Oh, come on, Gordon you need to relax. That was another lifetime. That doesn't matter anymore, dude."

He stood up and stretched his arms spinning around.

"We're in a whole new world here, man!"

It finally clicked to the lieutenant's brain.

"The lady in the white light sent you here too."

The Radioman sat back down and lit up a cigarette.

"Yep. Sure did."

"What did she tell you?"

Darden's jovial face hardened.

"I don't want to talk about it."

When Gordon tried to press him on the subject, Darden changed tack.

"It's a long and boring and blah-blah-blah-blah sad sad story, nothing you wanna hear. But hey, look at the bright side, we're still breathing, and in this groovy new world."

He went over to a Fontaine Soda machine and punched it. A can of soda popped out of the opening, which he took and tossed over to the lieutenant, who deftly caught it.

"And the best part? Now we get to be the insurgents!"

_(AN: Taaa-dahhh! We have a Heavy, and the Radioman in Albion, stirring up the royalists against Cromwell and his cronies! Honestly I had to do some serious contortions to the plot to squeeze a Heavy __**and**__ the Radioman into this story, but I think it will be worth it. It might be Monday before I'm done with the next chapter '_Applied Force_,' like I said it's turning a monster chapter. In the meantime, keep visiting/viewing/fav/follow/reviewing!)_


	20. Applied Force

"You're going to marry into a country of upstart nobles?"

Louise was dumbfounded by what her friend the princess had told her. Princess Henrietta was still at the Academy as a guest of honor to observe the annual Familiar Exhibition. Of course the real reason was to be away from spies and prying eyes that inhabited the royal palace. She had stopped by Louise's room after dinner to visit, and the conversation turned the reason she sent them on that mission.

Apparently she was betrothed to Prince Albert of Germania, and the letter would have been a political disaster. There would have been a scandal, the betrothal severed and possibly war would have been declared. That wasn't what was on the forefront of the pink-haired noble's mind. The princess gave her friend a reassuring smile.

"I'm putting the needs of my country above that of my own, dear."

"But that's so unfair!"

"A marriage of convenience for the country, Tristain needs Germania's protection if there is war."

Saito had been bored by all the back and forth and made the mistake of putting in his two cents. Louise glared at him and struck him with her riding crop.

"Shut up, idiot dog! Nobody asked you!"

It was then that the princess noticed the ring on the table. Her eyes became very wide.

"Was this ring with the letter that was given to Mr. Konrad?"

Louise paused in her 'disciplining' of Saito.

"Yes, why? What is so special about it?"

Henrietta turned the ring over with her slender fingers.

"It is a ruby fire ring, a family heirloom that I gave it to him as a token of our undying love."

The princess suddenly clasped Louise's hands in her own.

"Louise Françoise Vallière, my dearest friend, I know you owe me nothing since you accomplished this task of retrieving the letter, but I fear I must ask another, more dangerous mission."

The pinkette looked puzzled.

"I-I don't understand, Henrietta, what's wrong?"

"This ring meant all the world to Prince Wales, if he sent this ring back to me it means he knows something bad is going to happen to him. I fear he may be in mortal danger. Will you help me?"

Louise nodded once.

"Of course I will help!"

"Good. I cannot tell you how much of a relief that is. I need you to go back to Tristainia and try to catch Mr. Konrad before he travels to Albion, go with him, and find a way to bring Prince Wales back to Tristain."

The pink haired girl seemed to lost in thought for a moment.

"Princess Henrietta, there is another person I would like to bring along. He is not a knight or a noble, but he comes from the same world as Sir Crosby, he is a soldier like him."

"If you trust him, then I trust him as well. Do this for me and I will be forever in your debt."

**(meanwhile, in the corridor of the Wind tower)**

"I'm telling you, sarge you should go ahead with it. I mean, it's worked out for Saito and hell, even me. Besides, have you seen the rack on that babe?"

Crosby shook his head.

"For the last time sergeant, Miss Zerbst is a teenager, I'm turning 36 next…well I would have turned 36 in a few months if it weren't for a trio of trigger-happy Delta Operators."

Lugo didn't rise to the bait but grinned.

"You're changing the subject, sarge."

"The point is I'm more than half her age and even if it's permissible in this world I still think it's wrong."

They opened the doors to the student dorm rooms and climbed the stairs. Siesta had helped them clean up from their little improvised fistfight, and told them that the pink-haired noble was looking for them. As they made their way down the hallway towards Louise's room Crosby continue.

"…now, if some wealthy widow closer to my age bracket shows up and has a thing for scarred-up soldiers from another world with a mild case of PTSD, then I may consider it."

The Delta Force sniper shook his head.

"Your loss man."

When they were almost there Crosby held up a hand to stop Lugo. There was someone crouched by the doorway. The Zulu squad sergeant put a finger to his lips and snuck up behind the interloper, and pounced. Unfortunately for both of them the door was about to be opened.

**(Louise's Room)**

The princess stood up to leave, when Louise opened the door to let her out, only to have Guiche, Sir Crosby and Mr. Lugo come crashing down on the floor. The pinkette looked shocked.

"What th-"

Crosby was the first to stand.

"My lady, your highness, myself and Sgt. Lugo saw this person eavesdropping. We attempted to apprehend him and ending up here."

She glared at the blonde.

"Guiche! Were you listening all this time?"

The blonde straightened up and made a sweeping bow to the princess.

"I have, and I, Guiche de Gramont, offer my services to you, your Highness. I want to help in this secret mission."

Crosby turned to the princess.

"What secret mission?"

**(Exactly 4 minutes and 26 seconds later…)**

"Like hell you are, kid."

Crosby turned from Guiche back to the princess.

"Honestly your Highness, if it weren't for the fact that you are ordering me to take Louise and Saito I wouldn't even bring them along on this mission. But I'm not risking this mission just because Leeroy Jenkins here wants to show off."

Guiche looked hurt by what he said.

"But, Sir Crosby, I thought we were friends."

"We are friends, kid. That is precisely why I don't want you along. This mission has 'bad news and danger' written all over it. The stakes are too high, if we fail this mission, then war is the outcome."

He gestured to the pinkette.

"Louise has her destructive magic ability whenever she goes all She-Hulk, and her familiar at least understands how our weapons work."

Saito snickered at the reference. Louise was only vaguely aware that it was a veiled insult about her short temper. The soldier continued.

"Both proved to me that they can hold their own after that fight with the thief."

He put a hand on Guiche's shoulder, who was looking crestfallen.

"Look, you got heart kid, but putting the stakes of the mission aside, I don't want to be responsible for your untimely demise just because you want to impress the ladies."

"Um, sarge."

Crosby turned back to Lugo.

"What is it, Lugo?"

"If what the princess said is true, then Guiche is privy to confidential information. That makes him a security risk. It would be easier just to have him tag along."

Crosby turned back and saw the princess and Louise looking at him expectantly. He folded his arms across his chest.

"Your observations are noted, sergeant. But my conditions are clear. I'll help in this mission, and even bring Louise and her familiar along, but the fop stays behind. And that's final."

**(the next morning, outside the walls of the Academy)**

Crosby led the column of horseback riders out of the school. He looked an odd sight with his Zulu Squad armor and helmet coupled with the dark blue chevalier cloak. His P90 dangled on a sling and was resting on the pommel of his saddle, his two handguns were secured to his vest and thigh-rig, respectively. The 'Staff of Destruction' was secured in a saddle holster made by one of the stable hands at the academy. He wore his googles and baklava as well; they would help keep the dust out of his eyes and face on this trip.

It also concealed his foul disposition. His dour thoughts were interrupted as a rider pulled up beside him. Lugo pulled his keffiyeh scarf down and spoke.

"Hey, sarge! As the farmer said to the horse, why the long face?"

The old soldier shook his head.

"I must be losing my edge."

"Oh come on sarge. Quit with the sulking. It's beneath you."

"There was a time, sergeant, when I gave the final word people would not only listen, they would stand straighter and follow their orders with gusto."

Lugo grinned.

"So the princess gave you both barrels, pleading her case with those big, shimmering beautiful blue eyes, so what?"

Crosby glared at the Delta Force sniper.

"That's enough, sergeant."

Lugo continued.

"…just because you allowed Guiche to come along doesn't mean you caved. Well, actually you did, but hey, these local gals are real cute when they do that eye-shimmer thing and look at you like that…"

Crosby sighed.

"Are you quite through, sergeant?"

"…it just means you're starting thaw and become more human, sarge. I mean, the Grinch's heart grew three sizes last night. Well, maybe more like two sizes. Maybe one. I don't know, can Grinch's hearts grow in half-size increments?"

He looked over to Crosby who was giving him a flat look, made more impressive that he could see it through his baklava.

"Done, sergeant?"

Lugo thought for a moment.

"Yep, I'm golden."

"Then zip the lip and take point."

Lugo grinned as he pulled his scarf back up over his face and spurred his horse ahead. Crosby shook his head.

"I'm getting soft."

He pulled himself out of his thoughts to focus on the mission. He wasn't going to let anyone die on his mission, not on his watch. Mentally he went over the mission parameters. They had to reach Tristainia before sundown. According to the princess, there was an annual festival day after tomorrow in Londinium where merchants and craftsman from all over Helkeginia would converge and sell their wares. And it was under that cover that they would converge in Londinium, and make contact with the prince at the festival. Then they would slip out of the country by cover of night, travel back to Tristain and off to meet the princess in Tarbes, where she and the prince would profess their love for one another and get officially recognized as a royal couple, bury the hatchet with her kingdom and Albion, and live happily ever after. Oh, and prevent a large and bloody war in the process. A simple mission.

A simple mission, if he had three weeks to prepare, his old cadre of Zulu Squad soldiers, a long-range transport for discrete insertion and quick extraction, and satellite communication.

As it was he had one evening to prepare, one wisecracking Delta Force sniper whom a week ago he would have shot on sight, one teenager from Tokyo who played video games, one pink-haired witch with unpredictable magical abilities and a hair-trigger temper, and one fop whose combat readiness was dubious at best, if his dueling skills were anything to go off of.

He heard a shrill screech and turned in the saddle to look back. Saito didn't have a horse so he had to share one with Louise, with her riding saddle and him riding behind her. He wasn't sure what caused the pinkette to abuse her familiar, but he assumed the luckless teen had copped a feel, whether on purpose or accident. He could almost hear Saito talking.

"…Come on, it was an accident! I couldn't even feel them, they're so flat."

Crosby facepalmed. That kid must have a deathwish. The pinkette had many berserker buttons to go with her hair-trigger temper, but calling her flat-chested would make her go ballistic. As it was she kicked him off and dragged him behind her horse by the chain on his collar. His thoughts were interrupted by his radio crackling to life.

_"Sarge, we've got a tango ahead, and you should see this."_

"Roger that, coming up front."

He held up a hand to bring the column to a halt and rode up. When he geared up this morning he found it odd that his radio was switched off. He didn't remember turning it off, but then again until Lugo showed up it would have been worthless anyways.

When he arrived at the Delta sniper's position he froze. There was a man, about his age, wearing something that looked straight out of a bad Three Musketeers movie. But the kicker was the person's mode of transport. It was a griffon! He heard Lugo whistle.

"Man, I thought I've seen everything, but a dude riding a griffon? That takes the taco."

The rider dismounted and made a flourishing bow.

"Greetings travelers, I am Jean-Jaques Francis Viscount de Wardes, at your service."

Lugo leaned in.

"Man, that's a mouthful. Doesn't anyone around here just go by Smith?"

Crosby shushed him, and pushed his goggles off his eyes and pulled down his baklava before he spoke.

"Greetings, Count Wardes. I am Sir Robert Crosby, of Zulu Squad, this man is my squire Sergeant John Lugo, and my retinue. I apologize for my manners but we must be off, as we have pressing business."

The count raised an eyebrow as he took in Crosby and Lugo's odd clothes.

"And what business is that, Sir Crosby, Noble Knight whose order I do not recognize?"

Crosby leaned forward in the saddle.

"Our own business."

The verbal standoff was interrupted by Louise.

"What is the meaning of this holdup, Sir Crosby-oh?"

He turned back and saw that there was recognition in the pinkette's eyes.

"Louise, my dove!"

The voice had him turn back to the count, who strode up and swept the girl off her horse and held her in a tight embrace, one that unless he was her father or favorite uncle would have seemed inappropriate. She for her part looked flushed and embarrassed. The count released her and turned back to the soldier.

"My apologies, Sir Crosby, for my ill manners, I had received word that Louise Vallière was traveling to Tristainia on a mission of her Highness Princess Henrietta, and volunteered my services."

"Mighty big of you, Wardes."

Lugo voiced the suspicion that was creeping in Crosby's mind.

"Naturally, I would do anything to guard the safety of my fiancée."

"Your WHAT?" All three of the Earth-born males said at once.

The Count looked puzzled.

"Louise Vallière is my fiancée; we are betrothed to be married."

Crosby raised his hand, forestalled any further comments from Saito or Lugo.

"And what exactly do you know about this 'mission', count?"

The count gave a conspiratorial smile.

"Please, Sir Crosby. I am aware that the princess wishes the well-being of one certain prince in Albion. My orders are to be part of your retinue under your command, to escort you to the coast, see you safely off to Albion, and when you arrive with your 'guest' to see to his well-being until such a time when the princess can meet him."

Crosby nodded. The man's knowledge of the mission troubled him, but he wouldn't be coming along on the dangerous parts of the mission anyways, so he wouldn't be a liability. And once they made it back into Tristain with the prince it would cease to be his problem.

"Alright, you're in. Count, you take up the rear guard. Lugo, you're back on point. Let's double time it, we're burning up daylight."

The count made another flourishing bow.

"As you command, Sir Crosby."

He turned back to Louise.

"Come, my dear, you can ride with me."

Crosby noticed that Saito didn't look very happy about the situation. Lugo spoke up.

"Look at it this way, dude, at least you don't have to worry about her hitting you. And you got your own horse."

Crosby shook his head.

"Sergeant, do you even hear the crap that's comes out of your mouth?"

Without skipping a beat Lugo piped up.

"No sarge, I feel that it messes with my comic rhythm."

It was almost dusk when the unusual column made its way into Tristainia. If Crosby thought that they got odd looks the first time he came here with Louise and Saito, they were getting full blown stares now. Fortunately they reached Konrad's shop without incident. He met them outside, with a large covered wagon teeming with wares. Crosby dismounted and saluted his former CO.

"Colonel Konrad, sir!"

Konrad returned the salute and smiled.

"Well, Sir Robert Crosby, it would appear as though I've been drafted again. And it would appear that you're back under my command, so as you were, sergeant."

He looked over the retinue.

"And you brought more friends, it would appear. Come inside the shop, we don't have much time before the airship leaves for Londinium."

**(inside the blacksmith shop)**

"…That should about cover it, are there any questions, Count Wardes?"

The count shook his head.

"Just one, Mr. Konrad, you seem to have noble bearings for a commoner..."

The condescending way the count spoke to his commanding officer raised Crosby's hackles, but he said nothing.

"…and you and the noble knight Sir Crosby seem to have a history, and since I cannot ask him directly for fear of besmirching his noble character and having him take offense…"

If Konrad was put off by the count's patronizing manner he did not show it, but gave a patient smile.

"It's alright, Count Wardes, what do you wish to ask of me?"

"Does the noble knight Sir Crosby have feelings for my fiancée Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière?"

"WHAT?"

_(AN: Yeah I'm awful for ending there, but honestly this was so long I had to chop it in half. _

_'Huh-Huh-Huh, you said-'_

_Shut it. Jeez I can't take me anywhere._

_So as I said, this chapter was getting so bloated I'm dividing it up in two parts like I did 'Damn Close'. Also because I felt so masochistic there is one more character that will make an appearance in the next part. He will be a background character though. Honestly this is the last one, because right now it's getting crowded and Helkeginia isn't big enough for a bunch of testosterone-charged soldiers to be running amok in. _

_Hopefully I'll have the second part done by the weekend. I'm off to bed, now. Thanks for the continued interest!)_


	21. Applied Force, Part Deux

"WHAT?"

This time the exclamation was Crosby and the pinkette.

"That's ridiculous! Sir Crosby is my bodyguard, nothing more!"

"…and besides I'm old enough to be that violent little pipsqueak's father! Course if I was her father, she'd get spanked more!"

"How dare you talk to me like that!"

Konrad just continued to smile.

"You two do fight a lot like an old married couple, sergeant."

He turned back to the count.

"I think they answered your question, Count Wardes, but in case you missed it, whilst I can't speak for Miss Vallière, I can speak for Sir Crosby, and the answer is most definitively no."

The count seemed satisfied and nodded.

"Any other questions?"

Saito raised his hand.

"Um, could I get a weapon? I mean Guiche and Louise have wands and magic? I mean, you have a spare pistol."

It was Crosby who replied.

"No."

"What? What do you mean."

"What is it with kids these days? I mean 'No,' as in the opposite of 'Yes'. Guns are dangerous, kid."

"But you gave me one in the fight with Fouquet."

"That was different, it was a limited engagement and I had no other choice in the matter. No. Guns."

Louise spoke up.

"Could I get a sword for my familiar, Mr. Konrad?"

Konrad scratched his chin.

"Well, most of my goods are packed and already spoken for. But I have a barrel back there by the horseshoe rack that's the bargain bin. You're welcome to any of the weapons there. Free of charge."

Saito huffed. He was going on a mission with real soldiers, and he wasn't even able to carry a gun, instead he was getting a sword, a crummy rusty old sword from the reject pile. He walked over to the barrel and started searching. There were maces, battle axes, short swords, bastard swords-

"Hey, buddy! Watch the hands, and watch what you're grabbing!"

-and apparently a talking sword. Saito looked dumbfounded.

"You-you talk?"

"Yep, I talk, I chatter, I can even sing if you like."

Crosby shook his head. This day couldn't possibly get any weirder.

"Please tell me I'm not the only one hearing the sword talk." He said.

"Crosby?"

A second voice spoke, and this one all three of the soldiers recognized the voice.

"McPherson? What the hell?"

The sword's first voice spoke again.

"Oh, yeah, there's the new guy, what was your name again?"

Crosby interrupted.

"McPherson? What happened to you?"

There was a long pause, when the sword spoke again it was McPherson's voice.

"It's a long story Sgt. Crosby. Ah, can you do me a favor?"

"Um, sure. Why not?"

"Come closer."

Crosby advanced on the sword that Saito was holding. It was old, very old but highly ornate and had an odd rune on the blade flat edge by the cross guard. McPherson's voice spoke again.

"Just…grab the hilt."

Saito offered it to him and he took it. Immediately the rune glowed and Crosby felt engulfed in a white light.

Memories began rushing past him. He was taking his platoon out to check on the distress beacon at the edge of the ruined city. The ambush by the insurgents. His capture and interrogation by Castavin. He felt an immense anger at the CIA agent for provoking the civilians into more civil war with the 33rd. He was buying time, knowing that his fellow soldiers were raiding the Nest even as his tormenter taunted him. Then there appeared three men, wearing clothes similar to Castavin. There was a heavy gunner, a sniper, and someone who looked familiar, and was probably the leader.

"Hold your fire!"

The leader spoke.

"Lower your weapon!" The heavy gunner ordered.

"Do I look stupid to you?" He asked rhetorically.

"No." the leader replied. "That's why you're going to point that pistol somewhere else."

"Lower your weapon, I'll lower mine."

"Not gonna happen." The heavy gunner retorted.

The leader lowered his weapon.

He could hear distant gunfire, his fellow soldiers from the 33rd were already raiding the Nest, he just needed to get to them.

"You got a name?" The leader asked.

"McPherson, 1st Lieutenant." He purposefully gave out as little information as possible.

"You?"

"Walker, Captain." The leader, Captain Walker, appeared to be of the same mindset. He continued.

"We found your friend at the plane; he told us where to find you."

That got his attention.

"Really? Where's he at?" His hopes jumped at the thought some of his platoon surviving. When the insurgents took him away from the wrecked airliner, there were still two left alive, Vandellas and Murphy. If one of them survived...

"He didn't make it."

...his hopes were dashed, and in its place arose the old suspicions.

"Why am I not surprised." He said bitterly. The heavy gunner got angry.

"So what? You think we killed him?"

Bingo. Best way to implicate a guilty party is to insinuate, and let them hang themselves with their own words. Best not to overplay his hand.

"I didn't say that." He lied.

"You're not saying much of anything, Lieutenant!"

It was clear that the leader, Walker, was getting impatient.

"Article 4, Captain. You gotta speak to my commander."

He said the words mockingly, like this CIA hired gun would know what rank meant. He knew he was walking a tightrope just talking to him, but he had to stall for time. It would be suicide to try to take on all of these newcomers with just a handgun. He edged away from the three men towards the rappel rope.

"Well, where is he at?" Walker demanded.

"By now I imagine he's just downstairs."

He was almost there.

"Yeah, I'll bet." Walker said sarcastically.

"Why don't you wait here," Just a few more feet. "I'll go get him."

He rappelled to safety.

"And order him to plug you full of holes." He said under his breath as he slid.

More memories rushed past. He heard himself order his men to fire on that three man team. There was a small shadow of doubt in his mind. Maybe they really were an Army recon team, sent to find survivors. Maybe he should try talking to them when both sides weren't pointing guns at each other. He ignored it, with all the gunfire going on, preventative diplomacy was not an option. In the midst of a huge firefight, applied force was. As his men opened fire on Walker and his team, he felt pain as one of the bullets struck him in the throat. His mind raged at the stupidity of surviving being executed by the CIA only to be killed by a stray bullet.

As darkness enveloped him, he could hear the sound of distant rumbling, like thunder. It took him a while to realize it was laughter. Then he heard a voice, hypnotic and sinister.

**"Yessss, they killed you before you could have your revenge…"**

Then there was another voice.

_"Lieutenant John McPherson, you were the loyal soldier following orders. But what did it bring?" _

It was soft and definitely feminine. The other voice spoke louder, more forcefully.

**"Don't listen to her, mortal! You want your revenge, what will you give for it?"**

_"Listen to your warrior's heart John, and see what your thirst for revenge has wrought."_

Then it all flashed before his eyes. The bloodbath at the Nest with all those luckless soldiers buried under the sand, the Gate Massacre with over 200 lives lost to white phosphorus, the raid on the water depot, the chopper dogfight in the sandstorm.

In the end, he saw Walker and Adams, screaming mad from all the killing, murdering the last remnants of 33rd like wild animals. His friends and fellow soldiers dead. Because of him. Because he would not question orders. Shame quenched the flames of anger, and the sinister voice seemed to feel that.

**"No! I will not be denied! Do not let go of your anger! Only your hate can save you!"**

**_"Begone."_**

The femine voice spoke again, just as softly as before but the command was more forceful than any shout. He felt the world go white, and was face to face with a tall woman with green tresses. Her beautiful face looked sad.

**_"You poor man. John McPherson, your obedience and loyalty to your superiors made you blind. And your blindness caused so much death and anguish."_**

His shame turned to sadness, and he felt tears streaming down his face as he cried.

"All my fault. It's all my fault."

He fell to his knees and wept bitterly. He felt soft hands stroking his hair. He looked up and saw her crouched next to him. Looking into his eyes with pity.

"Please," he said. "let me go back. Let me stop this madness from happening. Let me save my friends!"

He felt his heart sink as the beautiful lady shook her head sadly and slowly.

**_"What has been woven into a pattern in the Tapestry cannot be unwoven, John."_**

She stood up and gently pulled him to his feet.

**_"However, there may be another way."_**

His spirits soar with hope. He clasped her delicate hand.

"Yes, what is it?"

**_"There is another Tapestry, in which the pattern can be altered. Your presence there can help undo the damage your blindness wrought. If you can mend what was broken, you will receive absolution, and your eternal reward. Will you do this?"_**

He nodded eagerly.

"Yes! If it will help, I will do anything."

** (back in the shop)**

"In hindsight I should have requested clarification from the Lady before I said 'I'll do anything', especially if it involves being stuck in a magical sword."

"Um, hellooo, did you forget about me? The 6,000 year old celebrity?"

The Zulu Squad sergeant could have sworn he heard McPherson sigh.

"Yes, how could I forget Derflinger the Great and Mouthy."

Saito looked puzzled.

"Wait, you mean there are two of you in there?"

It was McPherson's voice that spoke up.

"Yep. And it's as awkward as it sounds. You ever been in the dorms, kid?"

The teenager nodded.

"Well, it's like sharing a very cramped dorm room with a loudmouthed roommate that won't stop talking and you can't get a word in edgewise. And we're not even going to get into the smell."

Derflinger spoke up.

"Oh, well excuuuuse me Mr. Fancy Pants. You know you didn't exactly smell like a bouquet of lilies when you showed up. Dried blood and bad BO. Didn't you have bathing where you came from?"

"No, because we were trapped in a city in the desert with no WATER! And since we're on the subject of odor, you smell like an outhouse that's been baking in the sun for 6,000 years."

Konrad decided to interrupt.

"As charming as this reunion is we really have to get to the docks, or we will miss our airship and not make it in time for the festival."

He shook his head.

"I can officially say this is the oddest day I have ever had in my new life here. And that counts the time I woke up with an elf."

He saw the look on Crosby's face.

"Never mind, it's a long story."

He clapped Saito on the back.

"Well, son I think you found yourself a real sword. I can't vouch for this Derflinger fellow, but Lt. McPherson is a fine soldier, and he'll make hero out of you, right Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir."

Derflinger's voice spoke up.

"Okay, now that we got the stuffy 'yes, sir, no, sir' boring stuff out of the way, we ready for our adventure?"

_(AN: And then John was a zombie, er, talking sword. Okay, I'll say it for you. "Ain't I a little stinker?"  
Seriously I always thought Lt. McPherson was an idiot for shooting first and asking questions later, so I figured I'd give him this._

_Seriously I forgot to have Saito get the sword and when I remembered it I thought of this. Let me know what you think. Next chapter, Albion!)_


	22. Good Training

_(AN: Oops, I've made my first in a many string of boo-boo's._

_I forgot to have Lugo confront Konrad in the blacksmith shop! My bad! Props to Trainalf for catching that one. That's why it's important to sit on a chapter and sleep on it then look at the next morning. My rationale was that Konrad doesn't know Lugo from Adam(s) and Lugo didn't have the same Ahab obsession with Konrad that Walker had. Still, a plot hole is a pot hole that can ruin a good story like it ruins a nice tire rim. Okay, it's past midnight here so I'll stop with the rambling._

_Anyways, I was planning on doing a scene cut to them in Londinium, but I decided to add a small interlude aboard the airship. And this airship I'm taking some liberties with (no, not those kinds get your mind out of the gutter!) so it's kind of like a ferry/cruise ship. _

Lugo was looking out on the railing of the massive airship, marveling at the night sky, feeling the cool breeze on his face. Louise, Saito and Guiche had decided to check out the ship's promenade, which had several gift shops and a casino. Crosby had retired to Konrad's cabin presumably to catch up. This left him there, on one of the observation decks, getting some fresh air. He looked up and marveled at the two moons.

"Quite a sight isn't it."

Lugo turned around and saw Konrad leaning against one of the main masts of the airship. He pointed up at the two moons.

"You know, when I arrived here, I wasn't convinced I was in another world. I was still trying to rationalize that I was still on Earth, that all the things that happened before was just a dream."

He walked up to the railing and leaned on the railing.

"Of course my first day here I had encountered a young lady."

He noticed the look that Lugo was giving him. He smiled.

"Oh, she was quite attractive, and well endowed, too. I don't think Miss Vallière would like her. Anyways, I had rescued her from dishonor at the hands of several disreputable men, thanks to my trusty sidearm I used to end my life and still had on my person, and in gratitude she took me in."

He propped up his elbows so he could gaze up at the sky.

"It was on my first night, when I looked out the window and saw two moons, that it hit me. I truly was in another world. Everything from then on would be different. Well, that and the young lady turned out to be an elf."

He looked over to Lugo.

"Sergeant John Lugo, isn't it? Things were so hairy back in Tristainia getting to the port that we did not have a chance to be formally introduced. I am John Konrad, formerly Lieutenant Colonel John Konrad, commander of the 'Damned 33rd."

When Lugo didn't respond, he continued.

"I had a long chat with Crosby, about you, your teammate Lt. Adams, and especially Captain Walker."

Lugo smiled bitterly.

"When Crosby called you Konrad at the shop, I was kind of hoping it was a different Konrad."

The old commander turned blacksmith shook his head.

"Relax, sergeant. I'm unarmed as you might have noticed, and I'm not going to strike you. You may have had complicity in killing my men, but you were following orders. And I certainly can't damn a man for following orders when I myself have been guilty of the same."

Lugo was shocked at the admission. He had always pictured Konrad to be this swaggering, proud, Patton-like archetype. The man in front of him was more like a war-weary veteran who had seen too much suffering. Then again, he had based a lot of his assumptions off of Walker's descriptions. Konrad continued.

"No, Lugo, I'm more disappointed and saddened that my former protégé would have turned out so wrong. I blame myself for that."

He saw the look on Lugo's face.

"Did Walker ever tell you what happened when we served together in Afghanistan?"

Lugo shook his head, still trying to process what was being said. Konrad continued.

"It doesn't surprise me. He was a 1st Lieutenant back then; I could see potential in him the moment he arrived on transfer to my battalion. He himself had followed my career, and that was one of the reasons he chose infantry after graduating from ROTC. He was everything you could ask for in a young officer; talented, bright, charismatic. The men in his platoon loved him, and he was like a father to all them."

Konrad's face darkened.

"I wish he did not have to endure the things he witnessed there. The things he lost. That's why it doesn't surprise me that he didn't tell you. Very few men could survive so terrible an ordeal to live to tell about it would want to tell about it. Suffice it to say it was a life-changing event for him. Still, had I known he was carrying that burden when he entered into Dubai, I would have done things differently."

He looked over to Lugo, who was still speechless.

"Sergeant, you have to understand that no matter what atrocities you committed, in Dubai and or wherever, it pales in comparison to the terrible decisions I had to make in that hellhole. I have more blood accumulated on my hands from those six months in Dubai, then you could ever accumulate in a lifetime in any disciple in the military. The important thing is that now, we all have a fresh slate in this new world."

He looked up again at the moons wistfully.

"Though, with the recent events I'm starting to doubt the Lady's promise of peace."

Lugo finally spoke.

"Sir, I believe the Lady. She told me I would become a knight in shining armor, and save the fair maiden, slay the dragon; that was a dream I had since I was a kid. It's the reason I enlisted. And she granted me that. So I have to believe our mission will succeed."

Konrad smiled at the young sergeant.

"Yes, Crosby has told me all about Siesta. According to him she's taken quite a fancy to you."

Lugo rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Yeah he and I had a long talk about that on the way to Tristainia, a sort of 'What are your intentions concerning my adopted kid sister' talk. I like her,and I'd like to make it work. I always wanted to settle down."

The smile on Konrad's face stretched into a grin.

"Well, you best make that you top priority once this mission is over. Don't wait too long or the opportunity will slip you by."

He opened the hatch that led to the promenade.

"And don't forget to grab some shut-eye. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."

Lugo saluted and grinned.

"Yes, sir!"

_(AN: So, Lugo and Konrad have cleared the air, and we can proceed with the plot! Let me know what you guys think. Developing Konrad as a character is tricky because I have to visualize Bruce Boxleitner speaking when I write Konrad's dialog. Next stop, Londinium!)_


	23. Situational Awareness

_(AN: Okay, so apparently between work and the marathon writing sessions I've managed to get myself sick again. So I need to take a couple of days off and recoop. And watch more FOZ. I promise I'll get back to this as soon as possible. If I feel up to it I'll try and finish the second part of this by the end of the weekend._

_And to all who've visited/fav/follow/commented, a big Merci! 5,000 hits as of this morning. This story has come a long way from a one-shot that was published two weeks ago. So thank you all for reading and for your support. _

_As I said I've split this chapter in two parts, mostly to give you something to read while I recover. Enjoy and see you Monday!)_

Louise struggled with a large cuirass as she tried to set it up on display. The suit of armor teetered and fell to the ground with a colossal crash. She let out a theatrical sigh.

"This is sooo much work! When do we go on break?"

Saito shook his head. Ever since they arrived in Albion earlier in the day she had been complaining nonstop about the workload. Before they disembarked Crosby-san had debriefed them on their roles in this mission.

"This mission will only work if all the gears of the machine work in sync with one another. If one of the cogs is out of whack the mission will be put in jeopardy. And the stakes are high enough that I don't want that happening. So I want this to go smoothly, and by the numbers."

He turned Konrad.

"Colonel Konrad has decided that we will both present ourselves as blacksmiths. He will speak about the fact that he is not getting any younger and that one day all this will be mine."

He nodded to Lugo.

"Lugo, you will have the role of the striker, or the muscle who handles the large hammer, works the bellows, basically you do all the grunt work."

The Delta Force sniper saluted with a grin.

"If I have to get shirtless and sweaty for the mission I don't mind it sarge. And if it impresses the ladies…"

Crosby rolled his eyes, and looked over to Saito and Guiche.

"You two are posing as Konrad's apprentices, and your duties are to set up the tent, the displays, deliver parcels to clients, pick up raw materials and act as the barkers who draw in clients."

He turned to Louise, smiling.

"Since you aren't exactly low profile you are going to pose as Konrad's servant girl, responsible for cleaning and light duty. Your main job is to stay out of the way."

The pinkette huffed.

"Hmphf! I can do any job these boys can do. Do not worry about me, Sir Bodyguard Crosby. I am a Vallière, and a Vallière never backs down from a challenge."

Which brought Saito back to listening to Louise whine about doing all the hard work, not wanting to remind her that it was her idea. At least Crosby had confiscated her riding crop.

Crosby and Konrad had gone off to speak to the guild members who were setting up the festival, and to gather some intelligence, leaving Lugo in charge of supervising set up. He himself was stripped to the waist and covered in soot from the forge bellows.

"C'mon, Pinkie, if you spent as much time working as you did whining you'd be done by now."

She shot him a glare and was about to retort when Saito piped up.

"Yes, and if you hadn't blown all our money gambling at the casino we wouldn't need to do the setup ourselves."

Louise directed her glare at her familiar.

"Shut up, dog-familiar! For the record I spent a large amount of money on Sir Crosby's chevalier outfit for the ball."

She lowered her head and said in a much lower voice.

"I just spent the rest of it at the casino."

Lugo cocked his head to one side.

"What, sarge went to a fancy dress ball? Man, I would've paid good money to see him in a monkey suit embarrassing himself on the dance floor."

She huffed.

"For your information, Mr. Lugo, Sir Crosby was quite the noble and had as his escort none other than my friend Princess Henrietta."

That caused Lugo to drop his toolbox.

"What? The sarge? And the princess? Wow, I take that back, I would have paid a fortune to see him dance with the princess."

Louise shrugged as she balanced an armored helmet on the display.

"I don't see why it's so shocking. Sir Crosby can have noble bearings when he bothers."

The pinkette was polishing a kite shield, and then spoke up.

"What happened in the world you came from, was it as bad as Sir Crosby said?"

Lugo chuckled humorlessly.

"Depends on what he said. Dubai was overrun with a sandstorm for over six months. Water, food, everything you would take for granted was scarce, to the point where people were killing each other for basic things like a cup of water. As for our history, well let's just say his reaction to seeing me for the first time was not unjustified."

She nodded.

"I admit when I first saw him I was scared of him."

She shuddered as she remembered when he first appeared in the courtyard after she summoned him, his duel with Guiche, his confrontation with the thief Fouquet. In all those instances what she remembered most was those cold, blue eyes.

"Well, he was a member of Zulu Squad, which was one of the toughest and most ruthless cadres of soldiers within the 33rd, so being intimidating is part of the job."

She looked up to Lugo.

"Is he a good person?"

The young soldier looked thoughtful.

"I think so. I mean, he's rough around the edges, and I think he hides his feelings for others under a façade of toughness."

He winked at Louise.

"Not unlike some other people I know."

He thought back to what the Lady in the Light said.

"But I believe he is a good person. I know he wouldn't be here if he wasn't."

She lowered her voice.

"Will you do me a favor, Mr. Lugo? Don't tell Sir Crosby how much I spent on his outfit. I don't want him feeling guilty."

The younger soldier grinned.

"Hell, I'm telling him you pissed all your money away on a sucker bet at the casino. He'll be scolding you for a week after that."

She scowled at him.

"Idiot! What I do with my own finances is nobody's business but my own."

"Whatever, but if you don't mind, we, have work to do."

He gestured to the large pile of crates still unpacked. She looked at him incredulously.

"What do you mean?"

Lugo grinned.

"Let me put this in words you will understand, kiddo. 'Lugo the Striker is telling Pinkie the Whiner less whiny and more worky.' Got it?"

"Idiot!"

**(Meanwhile on the festival grounds)**

Crosby watched as Konrad paid the guild members.

"You know, Honored Fellow of the Craft, it would appear as though the cost of selling wares at this festival has gone up. I seem to remember old man Couteau telling me when I took over for him that he paid only fifteen sovereigns."

The guild member shrugged.

"Times are tough, people aren't buying as many things in these uncertain times. Ever since Good King James died in that hunting accident three months ago, things have been upside down."

One of the other guild members, a fat man with a ruddy red beard spoke up.

"Accident, oh my friend James' death was no accident. It was the Reconquista that did him in. If something should happen to his son Wales, there will be trouble, mark my words."

Konrad wisely steered the conversation back towards the guild's share. After negotiating a lower percentage he left with Crosby.

At the mention of the prince Crosby's thoughts were taken back to just before the departed for Albion, when the group was having supper at a tavern by the docks.

Count Wardes had eaten very little, and had spent most of the meal staring at the sergeant. It was getting on Crosby's nerves.

"With respect to the count, you act as though you are going to say something, and yet you say nothing."

"I know that there are certain protocols to be followed in such matters, but I fear that time is rapidly getting away from us and I must insist."

"Spit it out, your countship. Time's a'wasting."

Wardes seemed ruffled by the sergeant's brusqueness, but he continued.

"Very well, I wish to challenge you to a duel."

All three of the teenagers at the table did a spit-take. Guiche especially seemed agitated.

"Um, noble Count Wardes, I would like to respectfully request that you do not waste the noble Sir Crosby's time…"

"You serious?"

Crosby interrupted the stammering of the blonde. Wardes nodded.

"I believe you to be of noble character and of great skill, but I also do not believe that you have been completely honest with me."

Crosby glared at him. He didn't like where this was going.

"In what way?"

"I believe that you harbor feelings for Lady Vallière, and that I cannot abide by. So it is with the utmost respect that I request you to a duel upon your arrival in Tristain."

To the horror of Louise and Guiche, the sergeant just shrugged.

"Your funeral, mac. Fine, I agree to your terms, most noble Count Wardes, and sincerely hope that our respective honors shall be satisfied by the outcome."

He chucked to himself as he recalled it. Both Louise and Guiche spent the first part of the trip desperately trying to get him on his word that he wouldn't kill Wardes. He demurred. Of course he had no intention of killing Wardes, he intended on humiliating the stupid peacock, after the mission was completed, of course. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't have some fun at the fop and the pinkette's expense.

His musings were interrupted by an older man that ran into him. He was wearing ornate clothes that reminded Crosby of vestments from another time. Before he could react, he noticed a small parcel on the ground at his feet. But when he looked up, the man was gone. He stuffed the parcel in pocket of his utes, and caught back up to Konrad.

"Falling behind sergeant?" Konrad smiled.

"No, sir. Just some old goat that dropped a package at my feet."

"Well, maybe it's a cache of sovereigns, in which case don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"What about our contact for the prince?"

Konrad shook his head.

"I haven't seen him yet. But I imagine they'll be on the lookout and make contact when they're ready."

Little did Konrad know, but he and Crosby were being observed. From a ledge on the clock tower overlooking the town square of Londinium and the grounds of the festival, a lone figure was watching them. He caught sight of Crosby and was startled.

Gordon lowered his binoculars.

"Sgt. Crosby? Here?"

_(AN: DUNDUNDUUUN! Okay, so having thrown that curveball, Gordon and the Radioman are not going to meet Crosby and co. just yet. They will cross paths, but not in the next couple of chapters. When they do, it will be epic and worth it. In the meantime I'm off to bed.)_


	24. Situational Awareness, Part Deux

(_AN: So I'm feeling a bit better, and this morning I finished the second part of the chapter, enjoy!)_

"Iceman this is Heavy Four do you copy?"

There was nothing but static.

"Iceman this is Heavy Four IFF Authentication is Romeo Foxtrot Juliet Golf, Four, Zero, Niner, how copy?"

After he recovered from his initial shock Gordon had been trying to reach his former subordinate on his radio. Gordon had been told that his contact that would be Prince Wales' ticket out of Albion was a man attending the festival as a merchant according to his source, who was a man from Pope Vittorio's court. The source had told him he would identify the contact in the crowd by bumping into him and leaving him a package. When Gordon asked what the package contained the man demurred, saying it was a mere trinket to identify the man.

So when the old man made his way across the square towards the guild master's tent, Gordon watched him through his binoculars. And when he gave the signal that's when he saw who it was. It was Sgt. Crosby, his old platoon NCO turned leader of Zulu Squad. His old sergeant was wearing an old leather smithy apron and a peasant shirt, but Gordon recognized the face. The fact that Sgt. Crosby was still wearing his black utes and boots also gave him away.

Back at the artisan pavilion it was a whirlwind of activity as people were pitching tents and setting out their wares. Over at the blacksmith's tent, Saito and Guiche were assembling the armor for display and Louise was unpacking swords and placing them on tables. In the din of voices nobody could hear the static-laced voice coming from the crate with Crosby's equipment and weapons.

_"Repeating, this is Heavy Four calling Iceman, IFF Authentication is Romeo Foxtrot Juliet Golf, Four, Zero, Niner, how copy?"_

But the voice fell on deaf ears, even Lugo, who was closest to the crate couldn't hear it over the noise of the bellows and the beating of steel on anvil.

"Dammit Crosby this is Lt. Gordon, are you there, please respond!"

Normally he would never break radio protocol by name-dropping over an open frequency, but he rationalized it on the grounds that nobody else in this medieval backwater world could eavesdrop on him. There was nothing but static that answered him. He shook his head and stashed his radio. Darden would want to know about this, but for now he had meet with Prince Wales' contact.

Crosby smiled as he arrived at Konrad's pavilion. The kids had been productive, he had to give credit. Just about everything was unpacked and set up. He heard the clock tower chime the evening hours and decided to have the 'grunts' call it a day.

"Good job kids, let's call it a day and grab some chow."

He looked over to Konrad who spoke.

"You and Lugo go ahead and take the kids, I'll man the tent."

The sergeant nodded. Louise for one was happy to take a break, and spent a good portion of the trip to the tavern telling him how difficult and laborious her day was. He smiled to himself, and didn't bother reminding the pinkette that this was a daily routine for all commoners.

When they arrived at the tavern and sat down, Louise had turned to her familiar.

"Familiar, go fetch us dinner!"

Crosby shook him head.

"With respect, Louise, remember you're our servant girl. Be a good girl and go fetch five tankards of ale and five orders of whatever passes for local food."

He pulled two sovereigns out of the pocket of his smithy apron. She opened her mouth to object, but to her credit didn't break her cover. He smiled. It was nice to boss around a noble, although he wouldn't make a habit of it. The last thing he wanted would be for the mission to go south because the pinkette blew her stack and their cover story.

While she was ordering food and ale, he decided to take a look at the bundle the old man had dropped in the square. It turned out to be some sort of medallion made of silver with an intricate design on it. Guiche said it didn't look familiar to him; although he was quick to point out that runes were not his strong point. Crosby shrugged, and was going to pocket the amulet when the run inscribed on it started to glow.

Suddenly he felt a burning pain on his forearm, as if someone had just poured acid on his tattoo. He grabbed his arm and winced, biting down a curse. Given that he had just lectured Louise on not breaking their cover story, he didn't want to attract attention. Slowly the pain ebbed away.

"Are you alright, Sir Crosby?"

He opened his eyes and saw that everyone else at his table was looking at him. The pinkette had just set down a tray brimming with tankards on their table, and had a concerned look on her face. A quick check around the noisy tavern assured him that no one else noticed. He looked down at his forearm and was shocked. Above his 'Damned 33rd' tattoo was an odd rune.

"That rune! I've seen that rune's pattern before!"

Louise piped up. He looked at her.

"When Colbert came to me, after we captured Fouquet, he was holding an old book and was excited. He was looking up the rune on my familiar's hand, and as he flipped through the book I thought I saw a rune that looked like that one!"

She looked down at the amulet.

"Where did you get that?"

He shrugged.

"Some old guy had dropped it, and when I picked it up to return it, he was nowhere to be found."

He compared the design of the rune on his forearm to the one on the medallion. It was identical. While the logical part of his brain told him this was just a coincidence, his soldier's instincts told him this wasn't chance. When they got back to Tristain Academy of Magic he would want to talk to Colbert about it.

**(Later that evening, at a noble's safehouse in the outskirts of Londinium)**

Under the cover of night two cloaked individuals arrived and the safehouse, giving the proper password. Inside, the noble of the house greeted them.

"Cardinal Halstaff, your Highness, welcome. I bring word of the Jester, from his otherworldly envoy."

Both the cardinal and the prince gulped. They had heard rumors of this Jester, the man who could not be found, the man who would taunt Cromwell and his minions from a voice that seemed to come from the earth itself. But his envoy was terrifying.

The cardinal had heard from one noble who defected away from Cromwell's cause, telling stories of a massive unstoppable juggernaut raiding a heavily fortified enclave of Cromwell's soldiers, and massacring them to a man, leaving only him alive. This Jester must be a powerful mage, thought the cardinal, to summon such an unstoppable golem. His thoughts were interrupted by a door creaking open. First, there was a sound that echoed through the house, as if a dragon was snoring in the next room. A massive shadow framed the doorway and each footfall of the giant reverberated throughout the wooden floorboards. It stopped in front of the cardinal and the prince.

"The Jester sends his greetings."

The giant rumbled in a deep voice, accompanied by the sinister breathing.

"And a message."

With that the giant tapped something on his gauntlet, and then a familiar voice entered the room.

"Friends, Romalians, fellow nobles and commoners, lend me your ears! Actually don't that, that would be disgusting. Greetings from the Jester! And tonight we have a very special guest, how do you do, your highness?"

Prince Wales nodded shyly.

"Very well, sir. I am told that you can get me safely to Tristain, and destroy Cromwell's influence forever."

"Ding ding ding, give the kid a kewpie doll he answered the million dollar question! As it turns out I have it on good faith that a certain somebody in the royal Tristain court still carries a torch for her first and only true love. It looks as though love can conquer all! That letter and ring you sent must have done the trick!"

The boy's eyes lit up.

"Really, the princess, she-"

"Ah, ah, your highness, don't spoil the surprise for the rest of us. To your left is one Mr. Gilbert Sullivan, a guild-master responsible for the festival in Londinium. In the festival there is a Tristanian artisan who will give you passage to his home country and out of danger. And he will do it, won't you, Sully?"

The giant turned to the owner of the safehouse, a ruddy-faced man with a bright red beard, who flushed slightly under the menacing gaze of the golem.

"Y-yes, Lord Jester, I met the artisan this afternoon."

Gilbert looked over to the prince.

"Do not worry, your highness. My contact is an honorable man who will see you safely to Tristain."

"Then go, and Godspeed to you, while we on the homefront will keep calm and fight the good fight against Cromwell! We shall fight them in the streets, we shall fight them in the fields, and we shall never, ever give up!"

The Jester's voice ended, and without another word the giant left the room. With difficulty it made its way up the stairs and into a small boarding room, which it entered, and then shut the door behind him.

Gordon sighed. He must be getting spoiled, because he didn't remember the suit being this hot in Dubai. He pulled out his radio and tuned into the designated frequency.

"Darden, this is Gordon, do you copy?"

"C'mon man, you know better than to break radio protocol."

Gordon sighed again.

"Fine. This is Golem One called Jester Actual, do you copy?"

"Copy that Golem One, this is Jester Actual, go ahead."

"Package has been successfully handed off, Jester Actual."

"Awesomeness! So tell me, man. Was old Sullivan shitting his pants at the sight of you?"

"Yes, he was. And honestly I don't know why we have to go through with all this cloak and dagger secrecy. The Churchill crap was a bit over the top even for you."

"It's pageantry James, these primitive screwheads lap it up! And besides, having a legend helps the reputation and gives validity to our cause, just like in Dubai."

Gordon suddenly remembered something.

"There's something else, Darden."

"What's that?"

"I don't think we're alone."

"Awe come on man, you're gonna go off on a 'the truth is out there UFO' crap are you?"

The lieutenant shook his head.

"Not funny, Darden. No I mean I saw one of my former NCOs down in the square. I think he's our contact."

"Really which one?"

"Crosby."

"Crap, the leader of Zulu Squad? Geez that stogy sourpuss made it here?"

"I'd recognize him anywhere, even in mufti. I'm thinking of making contact at the festival tomorrow."

There was a long pause.

"No, let's not. At least not yet."

"Why not?"

He was starting to get irritated at the journalist turned underground agent provocateur.

"Well, if he is your contact it means he's in deep with the Tristain nobles, and we don't know where their loyalties lie. Besides, that Crosby guy ruined my fantasy football league in Dubai."

"Are you kidding me? You're shutting one my men, a member of the Damned 33rd, out in the cold because you 'think' he might be aligned with the Tristain nobles? And I thought we were trying to create an alliance with Tristain."

"Dude, you are not thinking big picture, man! That is just the first steps. Once we've secured an alliance between Albion and Tristain, then we can send our guys in to infiltrate the Princess's court, and we can spread our revolution from this floating island to the mainland!"

Gordon did not respond for a while. Darden's voice spoke up hopefully.

"Um…Golem One are you still there?"

"Yes, Jester Actual," the lieutenant said sarcastically, "I'm still here, just marveling at how ridiculous you sound when you monologue."

He checked his watch.

"It's almost 23:00 hours here, I'm going to catch some shut eye and take the first airship back to you in the morning. We can discuss the insanity of your master plan in person. Golem One out."

He switched off his radio and wondered if this whole Jester persona thing was going to Robert Darden's head. He mused on this as he finished removing his Heavy Trooper armor. As he pulled off a small speaker concealed in the aviator helmet he remembered questioning Darden about why having the golem persona sound like a Sith Lord was a good idea.

That Darden responded with mock maniacal laughter and shooting imaginary bolts of lightning from his fingertips made him drop the subject. After pulling off the up-armored boots, he stretched onto the modest bed and closed his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep he wondered how the heck Sgt. Crosby made it to Helkeginia, and how he was adjusting.

_(AN: Sooo, the moment you've all be waiting for, more Radioman! Honestly I don't know if I got his persona right, but the idea is that he doing the same thing he did in Dubai, except in this case trying to stir up a peasant revolution against the nobles. I'm stubbing out the next few chapters that involve getting the prince out of Albion, but the next chapter I think will shift over to Bravo Six and how they're adjusting to their new surroundings. Anyways, enjoy!)_


	25. Three Kings

_(AN: So I went to sleep after luncheon and ended up sleeping all day, waking up at midnight. Couldn't get back to sleep so I decided to finish up another chapter. Here we get to find out what Bravo Six has been up to since they arrived in Helkeginia a week ago...Enjoy!)_

Bowles was back in Dubai. He was flying Bravo Six with Tebby on shotgun and Joe the taciturn sniper as his door gunner. They were flying low between the ruined skyscrapers in downtown sand-swept Dubai, hunting for the hijacked Blackhawk chopper piloted by Walker and his team.

There was the chopper, in a controlled hover over the Radioman' tower, its side door minigun blazing away. Bowles shook his head. He had no idea why anyone would be petty enough to kill the Radioman, but this wanton destruction was insane.

"Eyes on Tango! Ten o'clock!" Tebby screamed into his mic.

Bowles toggled the firing stud on his joystick.

"Arming Hellfire rocket pod, weapons hot."

The targeting screen in the cockpit showed the Blackhawk as white on a dark green screen. The reticle pulsated with a persistent beep.

"We have a target lock, Fox Two away!"

The missile streaked over to the Blackhawk, only to have Walker shoot it out of the sky.

Bowles stared at the incongruous sight, and found himself shaking his head, and heard himself talking.

"Wait, wait this isn't right!"

He saw the Blackhawk come about, and saw Walker directing his fire at them. Instinctively he jerked the joystick in the opposite direction to veer the chopper away from the line of fire.

"Too late now, Bowles they're on to us!" Tebby screamed into his mic.

Even as he maneuvered, he could still hear himself babbling.

"Nah…I mean…we did this already!"

"What the fuck do you mean?" This time it was Joe's voice.

He shook his head.

"Ah, fuck it, it's nothing. Let just shake this guy already!"

Weaving in and out of the high-rises, he tried to dodge the incoming fire. When he looked back, he saw it wasn't one Blackhawk but three Blackhawks, each being piloted by one of Delta Team. Joe's panicked voice came in on the headset.

"Can't this thing go any fucking faster?! C'mon El-tee, punch it!"

"I am! Hold on!" Bowles yelled into his mic.

Then sand began filling his windscreen.

"Shit!" Tebby yelled. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep! Sandstorm! Closing fast!"

"So Get us out of here!"

"Not with those guys on our ass, we can't!"

Bowles then said the unthinkable.

"I'm taking us in."

"Into the storm, are you nuts?!" It was Joe's voice and his verged on hysterics.

"Guess we'll find out." Bowles said with an air of finality.

80 mph winds and sand buffeted the small craft, but sure enough, all three of the Blackhawks broke off pursuit.

"Hold on!" Bowles said as he fought for control of the chopper.

They rounded a corner of a building, barely missing the derelict construction crane, and it was then that Bowles' heart froze. A large red dragon perched between the Acico Office Tower and the ruined Nikko Hotel Dubai. It roared at them, and surged forward, breathing fire.

"Shit! Get us the fuck out of here!"

Bowles didn't even know who said it, but a sudden gust threw the Little Bird off balance. The craft veered hard and crashed into the side of a building, sending a cloud of broken glass and debris into the sandstorm. Bowles was vaguely aware that Tebby and Joe fell to their deaths, and he was alive, barely and pinned upside down in the cockpit. He couldn't get out, he felt fire licking the crashed craft, he felt the fire burning through his clothes and boots. He screamed, and sat up drenched in sweat.

"Are you alright?"

When his eyes focused, it was on a pretty girl with dark brown hair tied up in a kerchief. Her wide aquamarine eyes were filled with concern. Bowles shook his head.

"It's okay, Jessica. It was just a nightmare."

She didn't seem placated by his dismissive response.

"It must have been terrible; Scarron could hear you screaming downstairs."

She placed a cool hand on his forehead.

"Are you feeling ill? I can get you some broth with a tincture if that will help."

"Don't worry, sweetie."

He flashed his best smile, the one that his roommate in ROTC called the 'Radioactive Dental Leg-Spreader.'

"I'm fine, really it's nothing, sweetie."

She blushed at his smile. Works every time.

"Okay, if you're alright you know best."

He sat up and swung his feet to the rough wooden floor.

"Is it shift time yet?"

She nodded once.

"Um-hm, although no rush, your other friends haven't started yet."

"Where's Joe?"

She giggled.

"Where he usually is, moping by the bar with Marlène and Jeanne taking turns flirting with him."

He smiled at the thought. Ever since the taciturn sniper removed his ghillie suit and scarf the two younger bar maids were smitten by him. He pulled on his boots.

"Where's Tebby?"

She nodded towards the window.

"Out by the stables working on your airship."

Bowles grinned to himself. Ever since they ran across the Charming Fairies Inn and chased off some bandits that were trying to rob the place, the owner Scarron had allowed the three man team to park their Little Bird by the stable behind his tavern. He called it an airship too. Of course this Scarron dressed in drag in an outfit that would have shamed Priscilla Queen of the Desert, and wanted the guys to call him _mademoiselle_, so the wacky drag queen calling their Little Bird an airship was not the first shock of the day.

Bowles shook the thoughts from his head as he left the small room that was his quarters and made his way down the stairs to the tavern. The place was still pretty empty, with only a couple of paying customers. Joe was at his usual spot with the two maids cozying up to him. As he crossed the room he waved over to Joe, who just gave a curt nod before going back to his beer. The lieutenant shook his head again. At some point that kid is going to have to let go and enjoy his new life.

Outside he found Tebby inside the Little Bird, going through a checklist.

"What's the good word, corporal?"

Tebby looked up.

"Well, we still have full pods for our rockets, full ammo on the starboard minigun pod and roughly 1,500 rounds on the port minigun pod."

Bowles whistled.

"Damn, I thought we only fired a few warning shots at those bandits."

The corporal grinned.

"With respect, sir, you rocknrolled for almost half a minute with the minigun."

"Point taken, soldier. What about fuel?"

"We're down to a half a tank of fuel, which means we only have about 200 klicks to go before we're dry."

The lieutenant nodded.

"So it means until that wizard dude comes forward with that replenishing spell, we'll going to have to stay put. No point in wasting fuel flying around in circles chasing that IFF signal. Speaking of which, have you broadcasted yet? It's almost shift time."

Tebby shook his head.

"Sir, we've been broadcasting the same message for almost a week, and haven't heard a peep. Hell, last night I couldn't even find the IFF signal, it's like it moved out of range."

"Corporal, if there is even a hint of a chance that there's another person like us stuck in this world I want to know who it is and how we can reach them, and if possible, link up."

The corporal sighed but saluted.

"Roger that, sir."

He set down his clipboard and powered up the main battery, switching on the radio. He pulled his headset on and spoke into the mic.

"To the US military IFF transponder Romeo Foxtrot ID Eight Six Seven Fife dash Tree Zero Niner, this callsign Bravo Six transmitting in the blind, we are a three man chalk US Army 33rd Battalion marooned in a place called Tristain with francophone speaking natives, if you read please switch to channel twelve and respond, we will have ears on until 2300."

He paused for a minute to listen to nothing but static, the repeated the message three more times and switched the radio off. He finished an inventory of their personal weapons and ammo, and then secured them in a locked metal strongbox bolted to the floor of the chopper. He paused for a moment to look over the Little Bird before he left.

Between its battered airframe with its improvised hillbilly armor and faded black and red paintjob, and the 'Damned 33rd' logo on the side, to call it beautiful was a stretch. But he still liked it.

Inside he saw Bowles at the bar sipping a tankard of ale. He caught the eye of one of the barmaids to order his own beer, and sidled up to his commanding officer.

"Sit rep, Tebby?"

"No response from the radio broadcast, no small surprise there. Also did inventory on personal weapons. We've got six rounds for Joe's M-99, three mags for our M9 handguns, two for your UMP-45, and eight shells for the W1300 shotgun."

Bowles nodded.

"Well, it's not enough to start a war, but not shabby."

He looked over to the corporal, who had a quizzical look on his face.

"Relax, Tebby, I'm kidding. Besides, once that mage comes through for us we won't have to worry about fuel or ammo. Then we can get the lay of the land in this new world, and triangulate that IFF signal, and hopefully regroup with whoever else ended up in this weird world."

Tebby grabbed his tankard.

"I'll drink to that!"

"Excuse me gentlemen!"

Bowles turned and saw the tavern's flamboyant proprietor.

"It's time, gentlemen." Scarron said with a wink.

The lieutenant turned back towards the tavern and saw that it had indeed filled up with partrons. He nodded.

"Alright, Scarron. We're on."

He turned to Tebby.

"I think you should do the honors, corporal."

"What do you want to start with, sir."

Bowles grinned. Tebby rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on sir, not that song."

"Yes, corporal, that song. C'mon it's a crowd pleaser."

Tebby rolled his eyes.

"Fine, sir, but you're joining me this time."

He made eye contact with Jessica, who smiled and pulled out a battered pink CD boom box from behind the bar, and handed it to Bowles. He flipped through a sand-encrusted CD wallet and pulled a CD out of it and fed it into the slot.

Suddenly every timber in the tavern reverberated with the sound electro hillybilly music.

_'If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe  
I'd been married long time ago  
Where did you come from where did you go  
Where did you come from Cotton-Eye Joe'_

The entire room erupted with applause and raucous cheers as Tebby and Bowles jumped onto a table near the middle of the tavern. The two soldiers started stomping to the beat, clapping their hands as their boots caused tankards and plates to fly off the table. Patrons and barmaids started contra dancing to the beat. As Bowles switched places on the table with Tebby, he noticed the chestnut-haired barmaid named Jeanne pulling Joe onto the improvised dance floor. He grinned. Maybe that kid will have some fun tonight.

Scarron watched with one of his friends.

"Your new entertainment is quite lively, where did you get them?"

Scarron glanced over at the one called Bowles, who was doing some sort of Germanian kick dance on the table.

"I'm not sure where they are from, my friend. They're not from Tristain, or Albion, or Germania. I know they are soldiers or mercenaries, but they are different from soldiers or chevaliers that I know. I hired them because they rescued my tavern from highwaymen. And as it turns out, they're quite the draw in entertainment!"

Tebby had to admit it. The Appalachian-born corporal might claim to hate the music, but he was enjoying himself. He saw Joe dancing with one of the barmaids with something that looked like a smile on his face, and looked over to see his CO doing an improvised Cossack dance on the other end of the table, kicking a pitcher of wine onto the floor in the process. He admited it to himself, he was having fun. He could get used to this gig.

_(AN: I would like to thank a fellow author Cain O'Phelan for lending permission to do a shout out from one of his stories. And if you're a MASS Effect/Halo fan, check it out; it's called _The Devil's Own_. And if you're not a fan of ME or HALO, read it anyways, it's that good._

_Hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks for all those who PM'ed and fav/followed/commented the last chapter. Next chapter we're shifting back to Albion, I will say that the clock is ticking down from the time when Bravo Six will be reunited with Crosby and co, so stay tuned! And if there's something you like or don't like, as always LMK)_


	26. Author's Note, Redux and Reflux

_(AN: _

_In rereading some of the last few chapters I have noticed that more grammatical and punctuation errors, and a slip in the overall quality of writing. And it's not just me, some of my faithful fans and followers who have been with me since this story was just a one-shot plot bunny have informed me of it as well. So a few of quick points:_

_I really appreciate those who post constructive criticism (as opposed to the 'u suck!' posts) because it helps improve my writing, and improves the story and by that extension your reading experience. So everybody wins. So please, if you see errors or plot holes, please let me know. Trust me, my day job is sales, a racket I've been in for almost 15 years so I'm plenty thick-skinned LOL_

_ There is a crazy huge storm that's hitting where I am currently at now in my travels, so I have the feeling I'm going to have a lot of time on my hands over the next couple of days. Bad news for my minions at the office, good news for you because it will give me the time to finish the next chapter and do it right. I've stubbed out the chapter in outline format, which deals with Konrad and co. spiriting Prince Wales out of Albion and the challenges it poses (aptly named One Man Army), and by the looks of it this one will be big, like 5K words monster big. I may divide it up, if there is a suitable place for a cliffhanger, or I may post it all at once, either way it should be done by the end of the week, and once it has been carefully proofread, I'll post it. _

_After that I'm going to do what I did before and take another 3 days to a week off to let the creative juices recover and relieve the writer's cramp. Also I've ordered the second and third season of FOZ, but because it's coming from halfway around the world I won't get them until Valentine's Day at the soonest. And as the story progresses I need more FOZ references that can't be gleaned from a quick glance on the wiki. Again, keep calm and read on, I'm not going anywhere, I just need to recharge._

_I have also been flagged by the Minister of Silly who has informed me that several of the chapters, including the last two, have gotten entirely too silly for something as dramatic and bleak as the Spec Ops: The Line source material. I answer the charges with the following two points:_

_First, this is a crossover with an anime/manga that is very Silly, and therefore meets the guidelines set out by the Department of Silly for all silly crossovers. If necessary I can bump the ratings of this story to rating 'ES' for 'Extremely Silly, not recommended for ages over 18.'_

_The Second and less Silly point is yes, I have injected quite a bit of humor in it, both dry and sarcastic humor (Sgt. Crosby) to the silly (Lugo), especially early on. The reason is as the story progresses there will be less and less opportunities to be silly, so I take the opportunities to be silly when I can. That's not to say that the tone of the story will change and it will go from comic to grimdark. This isn't Warhammer 40K, after all. It's just a natural progression of the story. Don't worry, there will be plenty of humor in it, even in the last chapter._

_Finally thanks to all the fans who submitted requests to to have a dedicated Spec Ops category. Not only that, but there is a now a Spec Ops: The Line category. Woot!_

_I can't emphasize enough how much it means to have all the fav/follows/comments/visitors/views on this story, it really helps encourage the aspiring writer in me. So thank you all again and see you at the end of the week!)_


	27. Army of One

_(AN: So here is where things start to pick up steam. Will Konrad and co.'s mission to spirit the prince out of Albion succeed? _

_Will the dastardly Cromwell and his cronies catch wind of it? _

_Will Prince Wales and Henrietta use the power of love to shatter the influences of the powers of the Evulz? _

_Will the idiot parked in front of the laptop in the business center at the snowbound airport hotel please stop monologuing? _

_GET ON WITH IT!_

_*ahem*_

_Thanks again for your support and input. Taking a couple of days off really helped recharge the batteries. Hope you enjoy the chapter!)_

Crosby woke up at 0600 and yawned. Old habits die hard, and no matter what the surrounds he could always wake up without the help of an alarm. He stretched, lit a candle on the bedside table and took in his surroundings.

After supper Konrad had let a couple of rooms above the tavern. The former CO of the Damned 33rd opted to spend the night at his tent, to keep watch over the goods. Crosby and Lugo were sharing a small two-bed room, Saito, Guiche and Louise occupied the other. He pulled his boots on and walked over to a small table and splashed water on his face from the basin. After drying off he put on a patched shirt and a gillet that Konrad lent him. He reached under the pillow and pulled his M9 backup pistol out and slipped it into an inside pocket of the gillet. He looked over to Lugo, who was still sound asleep in spite of the ambient light. He shook the sleeping figure's shoulder.

"Come on, sergeant, up and at `em, it's time to wake up."

There was a muffled mumbling from Lugo, but no other stirring. He smiled. The Delta Force sniper had been through enough to earn him a couple of minutes extra shut-eye. Leaving the room the Zulu Squad sergeant opened the door across the hall and put his lighted candle in the room. Saito and Guiche were sleeping in stacked bunk bed; Saito on top snoring and drooling in his sleep, Guiche below still sound asleep clutching a teddy bear.

The third person was the pink-haired teen-aged witch that brought him from Dubai to this odd world. Louise was curled up in her own bed, softly breathing and looking for all the world like a cute little kitten sleeping. For a moment Crosby forgot about the pinkette with the loud mouth and the hair-trigger temper.

The moment passed, and he spoke up.

"Okay, kids, wake up! Today's the big day and I want everyone dressed and downstairs eating breakfast in five minutes."

Not one of them stirred. Crosby sighed, then had a distant memory of boot camp. He smiled evilly and made his way down the stairs and into the tavern's kitchen. The cook was hard at work preparing breakfast, but Crosby wasn't interested in breakfast.

"Pardon me, good cook, may I borrow a couple of your implements?"

The early morning quiet in the teenager's room was shattered by the cacophony of loud clanging. All of them jumped out of the beds at the shock of the sound, and when they rubbed their eyes clear of sleep they saw Crosby standing over them holding a kettle in one hand and a large soup ladle in the other.

"On your feet, kids! I want everyone dressed and knees to the breeze in five minutes. When I come back if I find any stragglers in bed they're getting a bucket of cold water."

He left the room of grumbling teens and crossed over to his room. Not surprisingly, he found Lugo wide awake.

"Jeez, sarge, really, the boot camp alarm clock? You probably woke up half of Londinium with that racket."

Crosby grinned.

"It got your lazy ass up. C'mon get dressed and help me herd the kids downstairs."

At the breakfast table he drank a large bowl-like cup of something that passed for coffee and thought over the mission as discussed with Konrad and Lugo. According to Konrad, at some point during the day the guild-master, one Gilbert Sullivan, would escort the prince Wales to their booth disguised as an apprentice. Sullivan would 'persuade' Konrad to take him as an apprentice, and Konrad would accept. The prince would keep a low profile until the end of the day, when he would be concealed in the wagon and spirited back with them to Tristain on the overnight airship ferry. A simple enough plan. He interrupted his thoughts to look down the table, and nocked an eyebrow. One person was missing.

"Where's Louise?"

Guiche flushed and said nothing, but it was Saito that spoke up.

"I think she said she was going to use the bathroom, Crosby-san."

The sergeant nodded and looked over to Lugo.

"Take our apprentices to the tent and help Konrad with final set up. I'll be along shortly with Louise."

"Roger that."

Crosby stood up and watched the others leave, then headed down to the hallway where the kitchen and the privy was located. Sure enough there was Louise. Unfortunately she wasn't alone. She was being cornered by a large, heavyset man wearing leather and mail armor; he looked like some of the Albion mercenaries that had been at the tavern the night before. As the sergeant approached it was apparent the man was drunk, no mean feat considering the early hour.

"Come on pretty girl, just give us a kiss."

She tried to duck under his arm that was blocking her path, to no avail.

"Please, sir, let me go."

The drunken mercenary continued.

"…You're very pretty, it's been so long since I've seen a girl, even one that doesn't have breasts."

Crosby facepalmed. This wasn't going to go well. And it didn't.

Louise seethed and kicked her foot up into the man's groin. The man groaned and doubled over; she quickly ran over to Crosby, and he protectively pushed her behind him.

"Bitch!"

The injured mercenary had recovered and pushed Crosby back into the tavern. The sergeant noticed that some of the patrons in the tavern were obviously compatriots of the drunk, and they had taken notice. This could get ugly. He held out a forestalling hand towards the advancing mercenary.

"This little one isn't worth the trouble, good sir. Now, let me get you something."

He gave Crosby a shove.

"Out of my way, you bastard, I'm going to cut that little bitch's leg off!"

Before the large drunken mercenary could draw his blade, Crosby had already sprang into action. He lashed out with his boot right above the large man's kneecap, and with a sickening crunch his heel hit home and the leg bent the wrong way. The man screamed in pain and fell to the ground. Crosby finished him off with a kick to the face. The others had hesitated for a moment, but he knew the damage was done.

At some point when the shock wore off they would realize they still outnumbered him. He had his gun, and it would make short work of the six compatriots of the injured merc. But a repeating handheld musket would draw too much attention, attention he was explicitly trying to avoid. He didn't know how to resolve this without bloodshed, his or the others. A voice interrupted.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The voice was a commanding one, and by the way the other mercenaries quickly fell in line, probably their employer. He was a man older than Crosby, but not by much, wearing finer clothes but not as gaudy as some of his Tristainian counterparts.

One of the men spoke.

"That bastard broke Hector's leg!"

The noble responded by backhanding the man, and he fell to the ground.

"Insufferable fool, what disgusting language you use among your own kind you will not use in the presence of your betters."

Another one quietly came forward and spoke.

"Milord, Hector had been…talking to the girl over there, and this gentleman intervened."

The noble looked down at Hector on the ground and tsked.

"Getting his leg broken in a brawl, that is sloppy. I am docking his pay for that."

He looked over to Crosby, and Louise who was cowering behind him. The sergeant spoke.

"My humble apologies to you my lord for incapacitating one of your men, but he was accosting the young girl, and that is something I could not abide."

The noble raised an eyebrow.

"You sir, have good manners for a commoner. I am Sir Percival of Hockspur. What is your name?"

Crosby bowed.

"I am Robert Crosby, of La Roche, at your service."

Sir Percival gave a nod.

"And I yours. Tell me, Mr. Crosby, were you a chevalier in the service of the Griffon Knights once upon a time?"

The sergeant almost stiffened at the thought that their cover might have been blown. Then he saw the noble smile.

"Your manners and bearings strike me as something more than what your appearance tells. Your stature speaks of one who is no stranger to combat. And yet you are not one of those uncouth loudmouthed braggarts that infest the commoner ranks of a regular army. Since it is unthinkable that a noble would stoop to become a commoner or a mercenary, then he must have been disgraced. And for him to be here and so far from home, his fall must have been great, which would only happen to someone who at one time held high rank. Hence my question about you being in the Griffon Guards."

Crosby smiled inwardly. This Albion noble was so close to the truth and yet so far out in left field it was laughable. He decided to play along.

"If the good noble would promise discretion, I will confess. It is as you say. I was a captain in the noble Griffon Guards, and my disgrace was great indeed."

He gestured to a table, which the noble sat at, and Crosby opposite him, with Louise sitting by the old sergeant.

Percival leaned in closer, clearly intrigued.

"What happened, Mr. Crosby? Fear not, I give you my word that nothing said at this table will be revealed."

Crosby lowered his head, and sighed.

"It involved my wife, good sir."

Comprehension dawned on the noble's face.

"Ahhh, yes. Those Tristainian women can be quite hot-blooded and promiscuous. So who was it, a fellow chevalier?"

Crosby spoke in a low voice laced with shame.

"He was a member of the princess's court, one of her closest advisors and mentors, my lord. His betrayal of trust to one so close caused so much pain and suffering."

The noble nodded.

"So you challenged him to a duel, and judging by what I've seen of you, you probably killed him. And so you had to face either death or disgrace."

Crosby nodded.

"I left in disgrace, and left behind my wife and my estate. I started a new life in La Roche under a different name."

The noble shook his head.

"That is a most difficult position to be in, Mr. Crosby, you have my sympathies."

He leaned forward and put a hand on Crosby's shoulder. He looked over to Louise and suddenly raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, that all of a sudden makes sense. Now I do not blame you for your anger at my man. Had I known I would have been more severe in the punishment."

He bowed deeply to the sergeant.

"Will you accept my humble apologies for having one in my employ being so uncouth towards your flesh and blood, Mr. Crosby? I will permit you to demand repayment, if you desire. You may even kill him, if you like."

Crosby was shocked at the humility of the noble, but shook his head.

"It was a mistake, and I forgive you. If more nobles were like you then the world would be a better place."

Percival nodded and changed topics.

"So what brings you to Londinium? The festival?"

"Indeed, my lord. I am a smithy by trade and am here with Mr. Konrad, of Tristania. Perhaps you have heard of his mentor, Mr. Couteau?"

"Indeed I have heard of Couteau the great artisan of steel. I have several blades that were fashioned by him, they have never failed me. I trust the understudy to be as talented as his master?"

Crosby smiled and bowed.

"Of course myself and Konrad could not hope to surpass the excellence that was Couteau's craftsmanship. However you are welcome to stop by our tent and examine for yourself."

Sir Percival nodded.

"Perhaps I will, in any case I must go there and purchase the most expensive blade from Konrad in reparation for my subordinate's uncouth manners. It is the least I can do."

He stood up.

"Thank you, Mr. Crosby, for accepting my apology and for the fine discourse. I must beg leave and be off. I hope the day will be profitable for you. Good day!"

The Zulu Squad sergeant waited for the noble to leave the tavern before turning to Louise.

"Are you alright?"

She looked dazed and appreciative, but then surprised him by recovering and glaring.

"No I am not! That barbaric mercenary was being uncouth and insulted me! And why did you intervene? I had everything under control."

He frowned.

"Right," he said sarcastically. "And what would you have done when he was going to chop you into little pieces with his blade?"

She huffed.

"I would have blown him to bits with my magic-"

He interrupted her with a snarl.

"-And blown our cover sky high along with him! I told you to control yourself, there is more at stake here than you stupid pride."

She tried to return his glare, but caved. Eighteen seconds, a new record for her, he thought.

Then she ruined the moment by scrunching up her face and crying. He rolled his eyes. Where was Saito when he needed him? He crouched down to her level and patted her on the back, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"Alright, it's okay, it's okay. No harm done."

She calmed down a bit, sniffed and blinked some of the tears out of her eyes. The sergeant grabbed a clean napkin off a table and offered it to her, and she blew her nose. He looked at her. Yep, he was definitely a sucker for the eye shimmer; clearly it was the most potent weapon the local female populace's arsenal.

"Just promise me that you'll be more careful, okay?"

She nodded once. As they made their way outside she spoke up.

"Why did Sir Percival apologize so profusely if he thought you were a commoner?"

Crosby smiled.

"He thought you were my daughter."

"What?!" That's ridiculous."

"I know, if you were my daughter you'd be a lot better behaved in public."

She huffed at that comment, but said nothing. When they arrived at the tent, there were already a few early customers trickling in. Konrad looked up from his work and smiled.

"It's nice that you could join us, Crosby. Did you get lost?"

Crosby gestured to the pinkette.

"Just being a good bodyguard, sir."

His former CO frowned.

"Anything I should worry about?"

"No, sir. Everything was resolved without bloodshed."

As the day progressed the blacksmith's tent was a hive of bustling activity. True to their cover Guiche and Saito acted as barkers trying to draw customers in, while Crosby and Konrad proudly displayed their wares, Lugo sharpened blades and repaired battered armor on the spot. Louise also held up her cover by acting as a servant girl running fresh water and food to Konrad and his workers.

Then, shortly after the lunch hour, a portly man with a bright red beard arrived. Konrad recognized him as Gilbert the guild-master. He also saw that Gilbert and a young man in tow whose face was concealed by a deep hood. He greeted the guild-master.

"Greetings to a Fellow of the Craft, Mr. Sullivan, how does the day treat you?"

"And fine greetings to a Fellow Craftsman, Mr. Konrad, my day is well. I hope the day has been profitable to you, thus far?"

Konrad nodded.

"It has, if the afternoon is as profitable as the morning my purse will be full indeed. What can I do for you, Mr. Sullivan?"  
"A favor for a favor, Mr. Konrad, may we speak inside?"

Crosby watched as Konrad and the guild-master go through the motions of negotiating an apprenticeship for his 'worker.' When the negotiations were concluded Mr. Sullivan turned to the boy and admonished him to work diligently and absorb as much knowledge as he could from the kind blacksmith Mr. Konrad.

"Young man, this is Mr. Crosby, you will be learning the most from him and Mr. Lugo. Listen to them and obey their instructions, understand?"

"Yes, sir." The boy meekly said.

Konrad turned and left. Crosby got a chance to have a good look at the incognito prince. His first impression was that he was shocked at how young the prince was; he looked to be about the same age as the other teenagers, and seemed a bit prissy. Still, if he still carried a torch for the princess and if their union could stop a war, he didn't care what the pretty boy looked like.

"Do you know what is expected of you, young man?"

The prince said nothing but nodded once.

"Good, then put on a smithy smock and help Mr. Lugo with the bellows."

He lowered his voice.

"And try to keep as low a profile as possible, your highness."

The boy understood and went over to where Lugo was working. He overheard a voice.

"You must be Konrad."

Crosby turned around to see the new customer who entered the tent, and immediately recognized him. Konrad had tensed up, but the sergeant quickly diffused the situation by addressing the noble with a flourishing bow.

"Sir Percival, it is good to see you again."

The noble bowed again.

"Likewise, Mr. Crosby."

He turned to Konrad.

"Mr. Konrad, I am Sir Percival, of Hockspur. You do not know me, but I knew your mentor Mr. Couteau, who was an expert with fashioning steel, be it blade or armor."

He glanced about the tent and picked up a rapier, testing the blade.

"And if this is any indication the understudy is every bit as talented as the master."

He placed the blade back onto the table and turned back to Konrad.

"Tell me, Mr. Konrad, what is the most expensive blade you have to offer?"

Konrad smiled and went over to a locked chest in the back of the tent. He opened it and pulled out a highly ornate sword, with a golden blade and a hilt encrusted with jewels.

"A foppish Romalian noble commissioned this sword for me, but managed to get himself killed in a duel before he could pick it up."

He handed it to Sir Percival, who went over the blade with a keen eye.

"The blade has been fashion from gold, which, as I tried to point out to the now-deceased noble, would make the blade brittle in combat. However he would not be dissuaded."

The noble nodded.

"A fool who made many bad decisions, and ultimately paid for his vanity by the sound of it. Still it is a finely wrought piece and a work of art. I will take it, how much?"

"The noble had offered me 3,000 écus for the commission of the blade, which would be about 1,200 sovereigns. I could offer it to you for 1,000, since you were of service to my man."

Sir Percival shook his head.

"Perish the thought, I will pay full price for it, I promised Mr. Crosby I would buy your most expensive piece and I am a noble of my word."

He motioned to one of his bodyguards, who left the tent and re-emerged a few minutes later with a large locked strongbox and set it at his feet. The noble withdrew a key from his pocket and unlocked it, revealing several large bags of coins. He pulled two large bags and one small bag out of the chest and handed them to Konrad.

"Here, two bags of 500 sovereigns each, and a smaller one with 200 sovereigns."

Konrad bowed deeply to the noble.

"You are as generous as you are gracious, Sir Percival, thank you."

The noble gave a small nod. The bodyguards shut the strongbox and left the tent. Sir Percival took the sword and turned back to Konrad with a bow.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I must be off. May the rest of your day be profitable."

Crosby had watched the entire exchange in awe. He was jarred from his reverie by a sudden gasp at his side. He looked down and saw the prince with a look of horror on his face.

"What's the matter, kid?"

The boy pointed to the retreating figure of the noble.

"That noble," the prince said nervously, "I recognize him. He is Sir Percival."

"So?"

"His household is closely aligned with Oliver Cromwell, and he himself is a high-ranking member of the Reconquista!"

That came as a shock to Crosby. He always assumed that if they were the badguys of this game of intrigue that they would act as badguys.

He shrugged to the prince.

"He seemed like an honorable man to me. A damn shame, really."

The prince nodded.

"There are some within Mr. Cromwell's group who are as wicked and ambitious as he, but there are some who are blinded by their loyalty to their friends and genuinely think that turning Albion into a republic is a good idea."

He sighed.

"I know that the intrigues of our world must seem alien to an outsider."

The sergeant shook his head.

"Actually your highness, I can relate."

They finished the rest of the day without incident, packing up the tent and remaining wares into the wagon, concealing the prince inside, and made their way back to the airship port. All three of the soldiers were very tense throughout the overnight journey back to Tristain. At Konrad's suggestion they each took a four hours shift standing watch over the prince in in his cabin. Crosby's shift was the last one, and it set his nerves on edge. In his long career as a soldier, it was usually at the end of a 'pickup and protect' mission that things went pear-shaped. The prince did help pass the time by talking to Crosby and Konrad.

"So why is it so important for you to meet face to face with the princess? If the two of you are an item, couldn't one of your write a declaration and the other formally confirm it?"

The prince shook his head.

"Even if such a declaration could slip past the net of influence of Cromwell and his Reconquista, he could declare the document a forgery on the part of Tristain."

Konrad nodded.

"So, if you and the princess were to make a public announcement together…"

"…then all nobles in Albion, both the Reconquista and the royalists, would have to accept it."

The prince continued.

"If I were to announce that the princess and I were to be married, then we would become allies and war can be averted."

"Wouldn't these Reconquista types try to intervene with your marriage after the announcement?"

Crosby asked. The prince shook his head.

"Even as these Reconquista nobles try to undermine me at every turn, they are still my subjects and they recognize that. They wouldn't have dared assassinate me on Albion soil for fear of the repercussions. Even the most die-hard supporter of Cromwell would turn against him if word got out that my death was by his hand or one of his minions. As long as I am alive they dare not make a move."

It was still dark in the early morning when the airship docked, and it was only after they disembarked Konrad's covered wagon off the airship and onto Tristain soil did Crosby breathe a sigh of relief. He was back in his Zulu Squad armor, and still checking the crowd for possible assassins, but he was still relieved.

"Mr. Konrad?"

A young messenger boy approached the wagon. Konrad nodded.

"Yes, son, what is it?"

The boy held out a sealed letter.

"I was instructed to give this to you, sir."

Konrad accepted the message and read it.

"Hmm, it's from Count Wardes, he is escorting her Highness to a small chapel on the outskirts of town, apparently to keep a low profile. We are to meet him there."

As the message promised, there on the outskirts of La Roche, was a small chapel or temple dedicated to whatever deity the locals worshiped. It was still early morning, and the light had not yet come up on the horizon. The place looked deserted. Something seemed off. A twig snapped and Crosby brought his P90 to bear on the interloper.

"Darling!"

He lowered his weapon as the familiar figure of Princess Henrietta emerged from the darkness. She rushed past Crosby and took the prince in a tight embrace.

"Oh darling I thought I would never see you again, are you well?"

He took her hands in his.

"Yes, yes my love I am well, thanks to your friends here."

As the two young love birds continued to coo and cuddle one another, the Zulu Squad sergeant felt embarrassed, as if he should be somewhere else. Suddenly a thought hit him.

"Where's Count Wardes?"

The count was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was ambushed. Quickly his mind went into combat mode and he spoke into his radio.

"Lugo, get Konrad and the kids squared away in the building and get back to my position. Something doesn't feel right."

The Delta Force Sniper's voice crackled in his earbud.

_"Roger that, on my way."_

He started scanning the shadows, and disengaged the prince from the princess.

"With respect, your highnesses, you two need to get into the chapel. It isn't safe here."

The princess obeyed Crosby's command, but the prince stood rooted to the spot like a deer in the headlights. She looked back to her lover.

"Come on darling, we must get inside."

Before the prince could reply a blade punched its way through his chest. The prince looked down in shock, and the princess screamed in horror. Before Crosby could bring his weapon to bear he was blasted off his feet. When he had recovered, he saw the prince fall to the ground in a pool of his own blood, dead. Crosby righted himself and glared up at the prince's assassin.

"Count Wardes, you traitorous son of a bitch!"

_(AN: DUNDUNDUUUUN! Yeah, so I went ahead and split this chapter up and ended it on another cliffhanger. Don't worry, Wardes will get what's coming to him. I'm already working on the next chapter and should have that done by the end of the week. In the meantime let me know what you think. On another note, I really hate snow.)_


	28. Friendly Fire

_(AN: Don't you just hate it when an author leaves a story on a cliffhanger and then leaves his readers hanging for weeks? Well, I do too, so I churned this out real quick. Hopefully it doesn't have too many errors.)_

"Count Wardes you traitorous son of a bitch!"

Crosby snarled and leveled his weapon, but the count had grabbed the princess by the elbow and held a blade to her throat.

"Not so fast, Sir Crosby. I am taking my leave, and taking the princess with me. Once she is in the hands of the Reconquista, then the court of Tristain will have no choice but to submit to Albion. Or they won't, and Albion will declare war on Tristian for murdering their prince."

"NO!"

Crosby turned and saw Louise being held back by Lugo. Saito was brandishing Derflinger, and Guiche his rose wand. The Zulu Squad sergeant turned back to face Wardes.

"You're not leaving here alive, count. Surrender now, and maybe the princess will spare your life."

The count laughed.

"Oh, I think not, Sir Crosby. If any so much as moves, then the princess dies. I am leaving."

He looked over the Louise.

"Come along, my dove. We have a future to make in the new Republic of Albion!"

Something clicked in Crosby's mind.

"Count Wardes, are you forgetting our duel?"

The count appeared conflicted.

"Regrettably, I must decline our duel. Another time, should you find yourself in Albion."

He pressed the blade into the princess's neck, almost piercing the skin.

"Come along, Louise, if you delay my hand might tremble and injure the princess."

Crosby then turned to Louise.

"Louise, my love! Since the villainous count has revealed his true colors, I no longer feel bound to our vow of silence. Will you leave me in silence as well?"

His back was turned to Wardes, and as he spoke he winked at the pinkette. She gave a subtle nod, and turned to Wardes.

"Count Jean-Jaques Francis, you are a villain and the basest of cowards, and I can now say I never truly loved you."

She gestured to Crosby.

"From the moment this man set foot in our world and the moment I set eyes on him, he stole my heart. I knew when I summoned him that it was destiny that sent him to my world. We were destined to be together."

She clasped her tiny hands in the Crosby's much larger hand.

"Though he may not have started life as a noble, he has more right to the title of nobility than any man I know, and he is worth ten of you."

She gazed at the sergeant, her eyes shimmering.

"Sir Robert Crosby, I will not leave silent. Even if this foul villain takes me away by force, know that I will always love you. Every time I have to dutifully tell this wicked man that I love him, every time this horrible monster takes advantage of me, know that I will always in my heart be loving you."

Wow, thought Crosby, she can really sell it. He looked over to Wardes, and apparently he was buying it, too. The count's face was calm, but his eyes were seething. Wardes threw the princess aside roughly.

"I will not stand for this! Sir Crosby you are a coward and a liar, and a thief to steal the affections of my fiancée!"

He leveled his sword at Crosby.

"Will you answer my challenge to a duel, Sir Crosby, or will you be a coward?"

Crosby nodded.

"You're on."

The count made a sweeping motion.

"I will duel you, Sir Crosby, and I do so for the affection of my dove, Louise. In this manner she will realize that she does in fact love me, for I will-"

The sergeant interrupted the count.

"Are you going to be monologuing for a while, Count?"

The count looked taken aback.

"Well, actually I was hoping to speak a while longer, if you don't mind."

The sergeant shook his head.

"Please by all means, continue, just one thing."

"Certainly, Sir Crosby."

"Has the duel technically started, or does only start after you've finished talking?"

The count waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh, the duel has started, but I wanted to say a few things to my fiancée first."

"Good."

Before Wardes could utter another word the Zulu Squad sergeant raised his P90 and fired off a shot. There was a loud crack as the gunshot echoed through the early dawn hours. The count fell to his knees, and looked down at the growing red stain on his immaculate silk waistcoat in shock. When he looked back up at the soldier standing over him, and a beam of red light issuing from the tip of the weapon.

"B-but…"

The soldier spoke in a low, harsh voice.

"Remember when I told you I was a noble knight?"

The count nodded dumbly.

"I lied."

He fired again, and a 5.7x28mm round entered the count's left eye socket and tore out the back of his head. The count fell back, dead. He looked over and saw Henrietta cradling the dead body of the prince, crying. Louise was trying to console the princess.

"What treachery is this?"

Crosby spun around, and saw three men, dressed like the count, mounted on griffons. The leader leveled his sword at Crosby.

"There has been blood spilled this morning! We find the Prince of Albion and our leader dead, and you with a weapon drawn, what have you to say?"

"Your leader was a traitorous bastard, he murdered the prince and was going to take the princess as a hostage back to Albion. I killed him before he could do that. You're welcome."

The man looked furious, and leapt from his mount.

"You will not sully the good name of our leader Wardes, while his body is not yet cold. Guard your tongue, sir, or I will cut it from your mouth!"

Crosby glared at him, and leveled his P90 at the knight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lugo doing the same.

"If you liked your leader so much, you can join him in hell!"

"Stop!"

Both men turned and saw the princess standing there.

"Sir Thibault, stand down!"

The knight sheathed his blade and genuflected on one knee.

"As you command, my queen."

He looked up.

"We were summoned here by a message from the count, it said that our leader's life was in danger."

She shook her head, and gestured to Crosby.

"Sir Robert Crosby speaks the truth. Though it pains me to say it, Count Wardes was a traitor, and in league with the Reconquista, and by his hand Prince Wales was slain."

The knight was about to speak when a loud roar like a hurricane blew him off his feet. Crosby heard the princess scream, and saw an immense black shadow eclipse the rising sun. One of the other knights yelled out.

"Dragon! It's a dragon! Quickly, we must protect her Highness!"

Crosby and the other knight grabbed the princess and pulled her towards the shelter of the temple. Lugo was holding position by a tree, firing up in the air.

"Get inside, sergeant! We need to get inside!"

It was only after he pushed the princess to safety inside that Crosby looked up. A cold knife of fear stabbed the pit of his stomach. It was a dragon, and much larger than Tabitha's familiar. While Sylphid had the appearance of a large blue lizard with cat-like mannerisms, this one was all fiery red scales and hornlike protrusions. Talons the size of scythes clawed the earth as it landed, and it let out a deep, guttural snarl.

**"Hin Dinok Konrad Sahlo, Ashskt Nahkriin, Kopraan Ag Korporan*!"**

The two remaining knights foolishly charged the dragon on their mounts, only to be burned by the dragon's breath.

Crosby slammed the door shut. The temple was just large enough to hold them, but it wouldn't hold up to a dragon's attack. It was still better than being out in the open. Lugo's voice piped up.

"Um, sarge, did I hear things or did that dragon just say 'Konrad'?"

Impossible, Crosby thought. He shook his head.

"It's your imagination, sergeant. That thing just wants to kill us."

He did a head count, and came up short. Two short.

"Shit, where's Louise and Saito?"

He smashed one of the stained glass windows and looked outside. Sure enough, there was Louise cowering behind a tree, with Saito trying to protect her. It looked as though the dragon hadn't noticed them, it was focusing all its attention on the ones inside. The structure shook again as another blast hit the temple. He looked over to Konrad.

"Sir, where is the grenade launcher?"

His CO shook his head.

"Still in the wagon, Crosby, which is probably blasted halfway to Albion now."

He looked down at his P90.

"Our weapons won't pierce that thing's hide. And this place won't be safe for long."

He looked over and saw a small door on the other end of the temple.

"I'm going out the front door, I'll see if I can distract it. The rest of you make a break for it out that back door. Try to make it to town, and get help. Above all, get the princess out of harm's way, I'm not allowing two royal deaths on my watch today."

"Crosby, I can't let you do that."

"Sir, with respect, I'm the most able-bodied here. I'm doing this."

Their argument was interrupted by Crosby's radio crackling to life.

_"…to the US military IFF transponder Romeo Foxtrot ID Eight Six Seven Fife dash Tree Zero Niner, this is Bravo Six transmitting in the blind, if you copy please respond…"_

Another shock.

"Lt. Bowles?"

*(Die by my fire, Konrad the weak, and know my name Nahkriin-vengeance!)

_(AN: So Wardes got his comeuppance, he probably should have looked up hubris in the dictionary before setting out on his mission of treachery. And jealously, and pride, greed, lust, etc etc._

_GET ON WITH IT!_

_And in other news a very special appearance by Special Agent Daniels __**and**__ Bravo Six! As the one Shakespearean actor said to the other in the 'Scottish Play'; "Shit just got real!" _

_Anyone who is a fan of Skyrim, do you know if there is an online translator of Dragonish to English? All they had is a small dictionary of words on the Skyrim wiki, so grammar and sentence structure is lacking, for all I know Nahkriin could be saying '_Where am bathroom my bunnies have to make orange._' It's not a huge deal, but since dragons will be making more appearances it would be nice to have them speak proper Dragonish._

_The next chapter should be up by the weekend. Hope you enjoyed!)_


	29. They Live

_(AN: Well, I'm finally back in the office, after spending two days snowbound. And I had a four hour delay at the airport so I was able to make more progress on the story. This chapter was going to be a lot longer, but I figured I would split it up, rather than leave you in suspense. Enjoy!)_

He couldn't believe it. He recognized the voice. It was Lt. Bowles, callsign _Bravo Six_, one of the pilots in his Little Bird squadron back in Dubai. Quickly he recovered and spoke into his radio.

"Bravo Six this is Bravo Two Actual, I authenticate IFF ID Romeo Foxtrot, Romeo Charlie Four, Zero, Fife, Two. How copy?"

There was an audible sigh of relief heard through the static.

_"Oh, thank Christ, it's good to hear a friendly voice, Crosby."_

"Likewise Lieutenant."

He ducked as another blast hit the chapel, causing plaster to fall down onto his helmet.

"Bravo Six, while I would love to chat I have a bit of a problem, if you're of an inclination to help."

_"Would that be the giant red dragon parked outside your IFF poz, sir?"_

"That would be an affirmative. If it's not too much trouble, could you take that big bastard out? Also, be advised there are friendlies on the deck, not too far from my position."

_"Roger that, Bravo Two Actual, what's their position?"_

"Two civilians by a large tree, one is a male, teenager, in a blue windbreaker; the other is a female, teenager, with pink hair."

There was a slight pause.

_"Ah, Bravo Two Actual could you say again your last, with the interference it sounded like you said 'pink hair'."_

"Affirmative, Bravo Six, I said 'pink hair.' C'mon you guys have been here and you're engaging a giant red dragon, someone with technicolor hair can't be the weirdest thing you've seen or heard."

There was a chuckle on the other end.

_"Roger that, confirmed we have a visual on the friendlies, will check fire. Keep your heads down, we're engaging Tango."_

Bowles looked over to Tebby.

"Arm the Hellfire pods."

"Hellfire pods armed, acquiring target lock."

He looked at the massive red dragon currently trying to destroy a chapel or temple that was Crosby's triangulated position. In the targeting screen the entire dragon was glowing white.

"That big guy must be made of heat, makes our job easier." Tebby said.

Bowles toggled the firing stud on his joystick.

"Weapons hot, targeting…we have a target lock!"

He pulled the trigger.

"Target locked, Fox Two, Fox Two, away!"

Two missiles streaked over towards the dragon, and impacted on its back. The dragon roared in pain and reared up, snapping the craft. The Little Bird bank sharply to the left, and streak of tracer fire peppered the dragon's shoulder and stomach. It flinched under the hail of bullets, and as quickly as it appeared it took off.

"Ah, Bravo Two Actual, this is Bravo Six, Tango is disengaging and turning tail, shall we pursue?"

_"Negative, as long as that bastard is not coming back, do not pursue. Touch down near my position, and bring your med kit, we may have wounded."_

"Roger that, and for the record, if you had said affirmative I would have said 'tough luck.' That big guy took two sidewinders to the back and that just pissed it off."

Crosby switched off his radio and turned to look over the others. Konrad was still trying to calm down the princess, Lugo and Guiche were looking to him expectantly.

"Lugo, go and check on Saito and Louise, make sure they're okay. Guiche, go check and see if Sir Thibault survived and if he need medical attention."

They both nodded and Crosby followed them out. The chopper had landed close to the temple, and it's engines were already winding down as the blades slowed. One of the inhabitants had already jumped out, and was making a beeline for Crosby.

"Sgt. Crosby! It's so good to see you!"

Bowles enveloped the sergeant in a bro-hug, which the sergeant returned.

"Good to see you here as well, sir. Speaking of which."

He disengaged from the hug and dope-slapped the lieutenant.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For disobeying orders, sir. Since you're here it's clear you didn't heed my warnings about the sandstorm."

Bowles grinned.

"With all due respect, sergeant, if I did obey your orders we wouldn't be here to save your bacon."

Crosby smiled.

"Point taken, sir."

Bowles looked over and saw his co-pilot and gunner approach.

"Crosby, you remember my co-pilot, Tebby?"

The sergeant nodded and shook his hand.

"Good to see you again, corporal."

"Likewise, sarge."

The lieutenant gestured to the sniper.

"This is Joe."

He saw the look that Crosby was giving him.

"It's a long story, sergeant."

"Okay, nice to meet you, Joe the sniper."

The sniper nodded and looked as if he was going to speak, but then he suddenly tensed up and leveled his weapon. Crosby didn't need to know who he was aiming at. An argument ensued.

"Joe! Lower your weapon!"

"Fuck you, that bastard killed my friends!"

"You would have killed us, too, shithead!"

"Lugo! You're not helping, put your fucking weapon down!"

"ALL OF YOU STAND DOWN!"

All five of the soldiers stiffened at the sound of the familiar voice. Konard had used his command voice for the first time since he arrived in this bizarre world of magic, it was a voice that could compel men to charge a hill or drop their weapons. He strode up to the three man team, whose eyes widened at the sight of their commanding officer. All of them, including Crosby and Lugo, stood ramrod straight at attention and saluted.

"Colonel Konrad, sir!"

Konrad glared at the lieutenant and his sniper.

"Lieutenant Bowles, secure your sniper before he does something we will all regret. In case you haven't noticed we are not in Dubai anymore."

"Sir, if I may, I think I can help."

Konrad turned around and saw Saito's sword talking. But it was Tebby that spoke up first.

"McPherson? Why are you a sword, el-tee?"

Crosby thought he heard McPherson sigh.

"It's a long story, corporal, could you and the other two do me a favor and touch the blade?"

Saito drew his sword and handed it off to Crosby, who extended it to the three soldiers. Hesitatingly they each put a hand on the flat of the blade. As soon as their gloved fingers touch the metal, they froze to the spot. For a full minute they remained like statues, rooted to the spot, and then just as suddenly they snapped out of it. Joe the sniper spoke first.

"Shit, that's heavy."

Bowles nodded.

"Well, that puts an interesting twist to the story."

"Once again, what am I chopped liver? Geez I feel like I'm a piece of furniture or something."

There was a second voice that came from the sword. Bowles looked shocked.

"Who the heck is that?"

It was McPherson's voice who spoke again.

"That would be Derflinger the Mouthy, lieutenant. And it's another long story."

While the pilot was trying to process the information, Konrad took the sword and handed it back to Saito. He looked back to Bowles.

"I assume that will conclude our bit of drama, Lieutenant. Can I count on you to work with the soldiers I have under my command, including Sgt. Lugo?"

Bowles saluted.

"Yes, sir! I will see to it."

Tebby spoke up.

"As the loot said, I've got some perspective now. We're cool."

The sniper saluted.

"I'll work with him, sir, and even cover his six, as long as he doesn't cramp my style."

Konrad nodded and returned the salute.

"I don't need you two to be BFF's, I just need your focus and cooperation. As you were."

He turned and saw Henrietta being led by Louise. She seemed calmer. When she approached he hung his head.

"Your highness, I am sorry for your loss. I have failed my mission. Worse, my failure has resulted in the death of your beloved. I am truly and deeply sorry for that."

He shook his head sadly.

"I was a damned fool for thinking I could find peace, even here."

"Do not blame yourself, Mr. Konrad."

He looked up, the princess had reached out to him, and took his hand in hers.

"Your mission was a success; you did exactly what you promised me to do, and brought Wales here, to Tristain. It was only by the treachery of Wardes that our plan failed. The failure and blame are mine alone."

She turned to Louise.

"Louise, my dear, I must get back to Tristainia, whether we want it or not I fear that the war we tried to prevent is imminent. And I must convene a council to find out how best to deal with it."

She looked back to Konrad.

"Mr. Konrad, with your experience in war I would greatly appreciate it if you would attend as well."

Konrad nodded, and looked over at the wreckage of his wagon and back over to Bowles.

"Think you're up for taxicab detail, lieutenant?"

The lieutenant grinned.

"As long as four of the passengers aren't scared of heights, sir!"

_And it came to pass that Sir Crosby and Bravo Six are reunited, and there was much rejoicing. Except for Lugo. And the minstrel. _

_GET ON WITH IT!_

_So as I said this is a short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. Now you know why McPherson is a sword, I basically made him an anthropomorphic plot exposition/handwaver to allow other members of the Damned 33rd to play nicely with Lugo. Next chapter will shift back to the Radioman and Lt. Gordon in Albion, as they deal with the aftermath of the prince's assassination. With all the pieces on this chessboard it's going to be challenging to make sure everyone gets screen time, including Louise and her familiar.)_


	30. Enter The Dragon

_(AN: Someone asked how it was I've been churning out so many chapters this week. Over the weekend I stubbed out this arc, and had it about 70% done. Combine that with some weather-related downtime, and I was able to write out as many chapters as I've had this week._

_So I lied, this chapter is more exposition. And it's short. And this part is a flashback, I was going to make this the previous chapter but I decided against it since it has spoilers. This takes place in Albion just after Konrad and co. left Albion.)_

**(12 hours earlier, in a remote estate in Albion)**

Dark figures glide through the mist-covered grounds of an old estate. The mansion is dark, and appears abandoned. These figures drift towards a side entrance of the mansion and enter the door. Inside, a darkened stairwell leads to cavernous room, lit by a fire in a brazier. In the center of the room is a throne, with a large firestone crystal next to it. A figure wearing a mask is seated in the throne. This was the secret conclave of the Reconquista.

When the last two figures entered the room, the person seated in the throne spoke.

"Sheffield, you were almost late. I trust your expedition to Tristain was fruitful?"

"It was, I was able to acquire an asset that will help us in our endeavors."

The speaker named Sheffield was female, and removed her mask, revealing a dark-haired woman with unsettling violet eyes.

The seated figure removed his mask, revealing an older man with a scar on his face. The one called Sheffield spoke.

"So, the prince is away?"

The man nodded.

"He is on an airship on his way to Tristain as we speak, he should arrive in the morning."

"Then our trap is sprung, Cromwell. I hope you know what you're doing. I'm taking an awful risk letting the prince slip out of our grasp. This had better work."

"It will work, I have the perfect man for the job. Someone the princess implicitly trusts."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The princess has a best friend, someone who attends the Academy of Magic in Tristain. And our man is that girl's fiancé."

"Perfect, then nothing can stop us."

One of the other masked persons spoke.

"What of the bodyguard? He is a threat."

Cromwell waved his hand.

"No, I think not. I believe he will be no match for the count."

A new voice spoke up in the darkness.

"Count Wardes is a fop and a fool. He will underestimate the brat's bodyguard, and it will cost him his life, mark my words."

Sheffield gestured to the cloaked newcomer.

"This is the asset I spoke of, one that I sprung from prison. May I introduce the thief Fouquet, of the Crumbling Earth."

The newcomer pulled her hands from the folds of her cloak, revealing fingers that were bandaged together, and removed her mask. The woman's eyes burned with hatred.

"I, too, underestimated this man; I thought he was a mere commoner, a soldier no different from the ones that inhabit the ranks of our military. I know what sort of man this Crosby is; he is no mere knight or mage. He comes from another world, and wields weapons that render all but the most powerful magic useless. I vowed that the man called Crosby would rue the day he spared my life, I will help you with your petty goals of invading Tristain, if it will allow me to take my revenge against the man who maimed and disgraced me."

Cromwell rubbed his chin.

"What sort of man is this Sir Crosby?"

"I believe I can answer that, Sir Cromwell."

The owner of the new voice removed his mask and spoke.

"I met this Sir Crosby at the festival, and at the time I knew there was more to him than met the eye."

Sheffield glared at noble.

"If you had suspicions, Sir Percival, why did you not act upon them?"

Cromwell waved a hand.

"Peace, Sheffield, let my friend speak."

Sir Percival nodded.

"I believe this Sir Crosby is the most dangerous sort of man. He permanently lamed one of my toughest mercenaries, and did so to protect the princess's best friend, posing as his daughter. This girl, if the stories are to be believed, is nothing more than a spoiled brat from a wealthy family. And yet he risked his life to protect her."

He shook his head.

"In speaking to him I believe him to be a good, honorable man. Brimir help me, I know him to be. If I had men like that under my command, we would be unstoppable."

"But we can't."

He smiled at Sheffield.

"No, we can't. As I said, he is the most dangerous sort of man, someone who is ruthless without being blinded by ambition, with skills honed in the fire of battle that make him powerful but bound by his conscience, and an undying loyalty to those close to him. Someone who can never bought, and can't be blackmailed."

Sheffield sniffed.

"In short, the insufferable sort of person that ends up becoming the hero of an epic tale."

His smile vanished from his face.

"Yes, and I sincerely thank Brimir every evening that there is only one of him, for the sake of the Reconquista. If there were even two such men in Helkeginia, that would spell our doom."

There was a rumble like thunder, and the fire in the brazier winked out. The firestone glowed an evil blood red, like magma. A voice like continents crashing against one another issued from the glow.

**"Foolssss. Foolish little men who whimper in dark places like whipped dogs at the threat of one man, when you realize there are not one, but several who joined him. There are even his kind within your own pathetic little island."**

Cromwell looked shocked.

"What? How?"

The voice continued.

**"Little importance to anyone but little men. The thief is correct, these men are soldiers, killers who come from another world, a world of violence, glorious violence…and weaponsss….ahh their world has weapons that make your petty elemental magic look like parlor tricks…weapons of fire, weapons that burn, maim, and kill hundreds, thousands, even one that can kill millionssss in one ball of fire. These are the men that you face. But I can provide asisssstance."**

Sheffield was the only one brave enough to speak.

"W-what sort of assistance?"

**"There was another soul that came from their violent world, one that was consumed for vengeance, one that I was able to ensssnare. I remade him in my image, he is my First, my Nahkriin, which in our ****_thu'um _****means 'Vengeance', and I offer him to you, if you promise to releasssse me."**

"How?"

**"Unimportant, I will provide you with the knowledge and meanssss to release me, you must agree to serve my ends."**

Sheffield looked back to Cromwell and the members of the Reconquista's inner circle. All nodded in turn, only Sir Percival averted his eyes and abstained. She turned back to the firestone.

"We agree, Lord Alduin."

**"Very well, I offer my First to you, do not squander this gift I have given you. I will be most displeassssed if you fail."**

_(AN: Oh, come on Cromwell, you don't make deals with fell entities like dragons. Especially ones whose name is 'World Eater' in Dragonish. To them, you're little and crunchy and taste good with ketchup. _

_Soooo remember how the Dragonborn destroyed Alduin in Svongaard? Well, he kinda didn't completely destroy him, just banished him to the Dark Realm. Where he could tempt lost souls who died violent deaths and led less than nice lives to become his Dragon. And tempt villains clutching the idiot ball into unleashing him on their world. And became an even larger Ham in the process. _

_Hope you enjoyed it, next chapter, aptly titled Intel Operative will have the Radioman trolling Cromwell.)_


	31. Intel Operative

_(AN: So one more chapter to ring in the weekend! Seriously 5 chapters in 5 days, that's a new record for me. I really appreciate all the feedback and views/visits/favs/follows/comments. It helps the creative juices. Enjoy!)_

"I do not trust Sheffield, Oliver."

Cromwell was standing outside the palace of Lonidium, having just received word of the assassination of Prince Wales. The courier did not know of the fate of Wardes or the princess, but it was of little import. With the prince out of the way, the next step in his plan could be set into motion. He turned to his friend.

"Indeed, Percival? And why not?"

Sir Percival shook his head.

"She has an agenda, and I do not believe it is for the betterment of the Republic of Albion."

He shuddered.

"I also think it was foolish to treat with creatures like this Alduin."

"Come now, Percival, be realistic. If the princess is still alive she could bring Germania to her cause, or at least keep Gallia in check and result in a stalemate at best. We need his power."

He turned to look over the square.

"And what will he ask for in return? When you approached me about forming this Reconquista it was to rid Albion of a corrupt monarchy, and put the power back into the hands of its citizens. I know we have to do questionable things for the greater good of the republic, but to court creatures of evil like Alduin is wrong, and feels wrong, Oliver. I just wanted you to know that."

A sly grin formed on Cromwell's face.

"Is my loyal right hand man having second thoughts?"

"My loyalty is, and always was, unquestioning, Oliver. I would follow you into the Void if you asked. As your friend, I just wanted to voice my concerns."

Cromwell put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I appreciate your concern. But when the new Republic is founded, all this will be but a footnote in history. People for generations to come will look to us as those who liberated them from the tyranny of the monarchy."

He looked up.

"Ah, here comes King Jozef's envoy. Let us go welcome him, shall we?"

Before his friend could respond, there was an immense explosion with a blast blew both of the nobles off their feet. When Cromwell pulled himself off the ground he could hear nothing but a ringing in his ears. The air was thick with acrid smoke. When his hearing returned he was aware of a voice that seemed to come from everywhere.

_"Uh-oooooh! Guess someone's making the Naughty List! I know what you diiiid, Oliver Cromwell, very naughty of you to kill off poor little Prince Wales like that. And on foreign soil too! Tisk Tisk Tisk!"_

"Who are you! Show yourself!"

_"I am everwhere, and I am nowhere! I am everyone…and no one! I am far away and IN YOUR FACE! I am the Jester, Bitch! And since you decided to move the goalposts by killing the prince, the kid gloves come off. Have fun scraping up King Jozef's envoy, but hey, at least when you send him back to old Joey you should save on postage! Here's a little tune for you to whistle while you work!"_

_"Another one bites the dust_  
_Another one bites the dust_  
_And another one gone and another one gone_  
_Another one bites the dust, yeah_  
_Hey, I'm gonna get you too_  
_Another one bites the dust one bites the dust…"_

The Radioman flipped the switch, turning on the Queen song.

"That was a bit over the top, Darden."

He swiveled in his chair to see his top lieutenant, out of his Heavy Trooper armor, and wearing ACUs.

"Oh come on Gordon, everyone needs a little Darkman quip. It's appropriate."

"Who?"

Darden rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on, Gordon! You're embarrassing yourself, dude and more to the point you're making me feel old. Okay, the Flash Gordon reference I get it, you're too young and it's not everyone's cup of java. But Darkman?"

"Sorry, Darden I was never into comic books."

Darden shook his head.

"You're hopelessly naive, Gordon. Please at least tell me you got laid before they deployed you."

Gordon gave the Radioman a flat look.

"Really, Darden?"

"What? Hey it's a legit question! I'll bet you dollars to sovereigns that poor Prince Wales probably died a virgin. Fuck the war and the monarchy, that's a real tragedy."

The lieutenant glared.

"Dude! Not funny! That kid died! The prince died while we were too busy playing cowboys and Indians with Cromwell and the Reconquista to help. I knew I should have made contact with Crosby!"

"Hey, hey, hey, relax! Take a chill-pill, dude. We didn't kill the Prince, that asswipe Cromwell did, and now we have the ammo we need to go after him. This little revolutions of ours is gaining some traction. You gotta look at the big picture."

"Will you forget your stupid little peasant revolt for a moment! With the prince dead Cromwell has the excuse he needs to go to war with Tristain. And if he gets King Joe on board, then it's not just a small beachhead contingent, but a full blown invasion! And thousands of lives are at stake."

He turned to leave.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Out. I'm taking the first airship to La Roche, and the first cab or carriage or horse-cart to Tristainia and warn the princess. If you want to stay here and play your little revolting games, you're welcome to."

He was about to open the large wooden door that led into the castle, when it opened, and a figure wearing a green cloak entered.

"If you are going to Tristain, I ask you to take me with you."

The cloaked person was female. Gordon looked skeptical.

"Okaay, so you were eavesdropping on our little piss-up. Who are you and why should I take you anywhere?"

"I have information that could save lives, and I was told that your organization could help."

She threw back her hood and cloak, revealing a girl with golden hair and light blue eyes. She was wearing short green dress a wide-brimmed sunhat, which seemed out of place. She also had a very impressive rack, the lieutenant thought. Quickly he shook his head. Focus, Gordon and stay professional, you don't want to make a bad impression.

"Daaamn! Check out the rack on the babe! Hey Gordon if you don't want to take her, I will! I'll take her anywhere!"

Gordon flushed, too late for that, thank you very much Robert Darden the Perverted. He looked over to apologize to the girl. But the girl just had a perplexed look on her face.

"I-I don't understand, what is a rack?"

"It's a desert country in my world, ma'am. What information do you have?"

She shook her head.

"It is too sensitive to discuss here, I must take a message to Princess Henrietta, and I overheard you saying that you were going there."

"And how came you of this information? Are you with the Reconquista? Or a dissident?"

She blushed.

"My father was the Archduke of Albion, and he had many powerful friends, including in the Reconquista."

Darden clapped his hands together.

"Ah, the rebellious daughter revolts against her Reconquista daddy, the plot thickens!"

"Darden, please."

He turned back to the girl.

"Okay, ma'am, why couldn't you just take an airship to Tristain yourself? Why all the secrecy?"

She blushed again, and slowly removed her sun hat. Revealing more of her golden hair, and two long pointed ears. Gordon was stunned, but it was Darden's voice that jarred him from his shock.

"Oh, hot damn, she's an elf! Holy crap, stop the presses we have a hot elf chick in our midst. Man, my old dungeon master would never believe this! Gordon if you don't say yes, I'll do it!"

The lieutenant shot Darden a nasty look.

"And if you don't shut up I swear I will take the nastiest sock I have in my dirty laundry and stuff it in your mouth! And if the fumes don't kill you at least I'll get a break from the immature drivel coming out of your mouth!"

He turned back and found the elf girl still looking puzzled at him.

"You don't know about elves?"

"No ma'am, what's the deal?"

She closed her eyes and hung her head.

"Many ages ago, my people were the dominant race in this world, but then our power waned, and human mages grew more powerful. Since our downfall we have been hunted and persecuted. I heard of the Jester and his mighty golem, and I thought if I had protection like that, I could make the journey back to Tristain. And then as I ascended the steps I overheard you saying that you were going to see the princess."

Gordon ignored the knowing look that Darden was giving him, and the wiggling eyebrows, and put a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I'm sorry to hear that, kid. What's your name?"

She flushed lightly, but smiled.

"It's Tiffania."

"Okay, Tiffania I tell you what, you can come with me, I'll get you to the princess and I promise no harm will come to you."

She looked up at him.

"You'd do this for me? Thank you so much!"

She surprised the lieutenant by giving him a big hug. Yep, he thought to himself, that's one impressive rack. He pulled his mind kicking and screaming out of the gutter to focus.

"Hey! Doesn't the Radioman get a hug too?"

_(AN: And the countdown for Gordon to reunite with his old NCO and Konrad is ticking down! _

_This marathon writing session was good, and I was able to get quite a bit done, but when I reread this chapter like 10 times and on the 11__th__ time I found a dozen spelling and grammar errors. So, I hope you enjoyed this week of daily updates, I'm taking another couple of days off to recharge. I'm working on the next chapter which switches back to Crosby and co. in Tristainia. I'm hoping to get it done by Monday. And next week I get in my new _FOZ _seasons! Wooot! Have a great weekend folks!)_


	32. The Road Back

_(AN: So this took longer than expected, so I'm splitting 'The Road Back' into two parts. The second part will reveal, among other things, a reason why 'Joe the Sniper' goes by that handle, as well as something from his dark and troubled past._

_Now we're in the second act of the story there's going to be some more silly stuff, especially when our merry band of misfits make it back to Tristain Academy of Magic. When they do set out for the 'Steel Dragon' and get to the third act, stuff is gonna get serious, but don't worry, there will be epic, curbstomp battles rated 'M' for Manly and much awesomeness to make up for the drama. Darkness will come, but take heart, the storm will break and there will be more silly to come!)_

"Hey, Loot, can't this little bird go any faster?"

There was a chuckle heard through the static.

"We're loaded past capacity, so that's a negative. What's wrong, Lugo, aren't you enjoying the view?"

"Oh it's lovely, except that it feels like I could fall to my death."

It would have been an odd sight to see. A battered AH-6J "Little Bird", with welded-on armor, loaded to capacity. A standard Little Bird could hold six, but the chopper with the callsign Bravo Six was carrying eight passengers, plus pilot and copilot.

The pilot Lt. Bowles smiled, recalling the conversation between him and his commander Konrad.

**(half an hour earlier)**

Konrad looked at the Little Bird.

"Think you're up for taxicab detail, lieutenant?"

Bowles grinned.

"As long as four of the passengers aren't scared of heights, sir!"

Crosby approached, carrying a strongbox. M32 MGL grenade launcher strapped to his back.

"Sir, most of your stuff is pancaked, but I was able to salvage the grenade launcher and your money box."

He looked over his shoulder as he watched Guiche and Saito supporting Sir Thibault.

"The Griffon Guard needs a medic, sir."

Konrad looked over to Bowles.

"Is the extra luggage going to be a problem, lieutenant?"

"Well, the 'Bird can hold almost a ton."

He looked over to the princess and the pinkette.

"But with all due respect I think I'd rather risk crashing my bird then asking a gal about her weight, sir."

He was interrupted by a yelp of pain. In looking over Louise was beating Saito with her riding crop.

"Especially the pink-haired one, the sarge said she's a walking IED with a very short fuse."

They laughed.

**(back to present)**

Bowles looked over his shoulder in the crowded passenger compartment. The wounded knight Thibault was lying on the floor, the kid named Saito and the blonde fop were stabilizing him. Louise and Henrietta were sitting on the bench. This left the remaining soldiers 'monkey-strapped' and sitting on improvised seats on the wings, which made for a lively ride. Which was why Sgt. Lugo was currently voicing his displeasure.

"Lugo, you're telling me you were a Delta Operator and never flied on a Killer Egg Insertion Run before?"

_"Negative, I always felt like I was missing out. Not."_

"For what it's worth sergeant, you're not going to fall out. You're strapped in, and a magical thing called gravity is pushing you into your seat. Even if this happens."

_"What happens?"_

The Little Bird banked sharply to the right to avoid a flock of birds.

"That."

He heard stream of curses coming from the Delta Force sniper, he could even hear the pinkette screaming over the engine and rotor blades.

_"Fuck! Dude that's not funny man! I almost slide out of my seat!"_

"Relax, sergeant, you're not going to fall out. It's like riding a roller coaster."

_"Do you know how many people die in roller coaster accidents?"_

"Not as many as those who die in chopper crashes. We're less than twenty klicks from Tristainia, try to grow a backbone in the meantime, sergeant."

**(exactly six minutes later)**

Agnès Chevalier de Milan, leader of her majesty's elite Firearms Guards, was in a panic. The guards on the outer wall had reported that there was a bizarre airship that was buzzing around the palace, and the last report was that it was headed for the main palace courtyard. She had scrambled ten of her best knights to intercept this airship as it landed.

Whatever was propelling it, it wasn't windstones, as it slowly descended from the sky towards the ground it kicked up a huge gale-force wind. As her eyes strained against the dust being kicked up, she could make out details of the craft. It was egg-shaped, being held up by rotating blades on its top. She could see men wearing unusual clothing sitting on the outside and somehow not falling off.

As the Little Bird approached the main courtyard, Crosby could see a group of knights congregating on the ground. He slipped the catch on his 'monkey-strap' and spoke into his radio.

"Joe and I will secure the LZ, as soon as we touch down get the princess off the chopper so these local yokels don't start something they can't finish."

_"Roger that."_

As soon as the chopper touched down, he and Joe slipped off their improvised seats and moved ahead, taking up defensive positions. There was a short-haired blonde girl in armor that was trying to say something, brandishing what looked like a primitive musket.

_"Let me take out the mouthy bitch with the popgun, sarge."_

"Negative, Joe, just secure the perimeter. We've already caused one international incident, don't need to start another."

He looked over his shoulder, and saw Konrad ducking low and escorting the princess. He looked back up and saw the blonde-haired female knight getting more agitated.

Agnès was aghast, these interlopers had the princess! And one of them, an older man was holding her liege by the elbow!

The blonde female knight advanced forward and pointed her musket at Konrad. Before Crosby could say anything, Joe sprang into action and intervened. The sniper positioned himself between his CO and the knight and muzzle thumped her, throwing her off balance. She recovered and tackled him. A scuffled ensued, and in the process she pulled his keffiyeh scarf. When she saw his face she froze.

Agnès was in shock, she had been attempting to subdue the older man that was holding the princess, when one of the oddly dressed soldiers, the one with the face coverings, attacked her. She struggled with him, they rolled on the ground and in the struggle she pulled his face covering off. The soldier was just a boy!

Joe was not sure what to do. This female knight was trying to attack him a moment ago, after he had gotten the upper hand and was on top of her she had pulled his scarf off, now she had this dazed look on her face. And she was doing that eye shimmer thingie that Sgt. Crosby was talking about.

The soldier was just a boy, and very handsome with large ice blue eyes and short hair, and looking at her in this puzzled fashion. He reminded her of an old flame she had when she was younger. She blushed at the recollection. Her thoughts were interrupted.

"Agnès, stand down! These men were helping me!"

She recognized the voice over the noise of the gale-force wind, which was subsiding. She also noticed that the blades on top of the craft were slowing down. The soldier got off her and stood at attention, she sprang to her feet and banged a fist over her chest.

"Princess Henrietta! I thought you were in danger."

The princess nodded to the older man.

"This is Colonel John Konrad, he and his group of men saved me from treachery, they are our allies."

The knight turned to Konrad.

"My apologies colonel, but in these uncertain times you cannot be too careful. I am Agnès, Chevalier de Milan, at your service."

Konrad shrugged.

"No harm no foul, Agnès. Things happen."

He helped the young sniper up.

"Are you okay, soldier?

Joe shrugged.

"I'm five by five, sir. Blondie didn't faze me."

When his subordinate spoke Konrad noticed the knight called Agnès blush. He smiled to himself. He turned to the Zulu Squad sergeant.

"Sgt. Crosby, you take my strongbox back to town, take Lugo and Louise with you for backup and requisition any transport you deem necessary."

He saw Guiche helping the wounded knight off the chopped and nodded to Agnès.

"Ma'am, this Griffon Guard needs medical attention, see to him."

He finally turned to the crew of Bravo Six.

"Corporal, you and Joe secure the chopper."

Henrietta spoke up.

"Agnès, get General De Poitiers and the rest of my advisors. We need to convene a council of war."

She turned to Konrad.

"Colonel Konrad, I would appreciate your counsel on this. Will you help?"

He smiled at her.

"Yes, ma'am. In any way I can."

He turned to Bowles.

"Lieutenant, how do you feel about following your CO into the lion's den?"

The lieutenant sighed theatrically, but grinned.

"With all due respect sir, I'd rather fly into a hot LZ with no ammo on fumes than venture into the minefield that is politics."

"Likewise, Lieutenant, but misery loves company. Fall in."

"Yes, sir."

_(AN: And the ship-teasing continues. Seriously what are your thoughts on pairing up SOTL with FOZ characters? I mean, it's a given we have SiestaXLugo, but what do you think about other pairings? BowlesXJessica, GordonXTiffania, KonradXHenrietta…_

_*Ka-Chuk!_

_Okay, Okay, put the Willy Pete mortar down!_

_Just LMK what you think. If you're not cool with it, and don't say anything, then don't complain when I pair up Crosby with Kirche LOL. Okay I was kidding about that one. Hope you enjoyed! And the second part should be up by Monday or Tuesday.)_


	33. The Road Back, Part Deux

_(AN: Ooookaaaay…so remember when I said that 'The Road Back' was going to be a two-parter? Well I mean a three parter, apologies! Seriously I stubbed out this arc last week and figured it would be a two-parter tops, but because this is the 33rd chapter, in honor of the Damned 33rd I decided to add some more plot twists. Enjoy!)_

"I never did compliment you on that act you did this morning."

Louise looked up from the back of the wagon.

"Hmm?"

With help from the Delta Force sniper, Crosby had 'borrowed' a wagon from the palace guard's stable and now they were making their way back to Konrad's shop to drop off what was salvaged from the botched mission to Albion. A distant clock chimed quarter past ten in the morning.

"What do you mean?" The pinkette asked.

"That spiel you gave Count Wardes to provoke him into releasing the princess and dueling me, I was impressed. Wardes was impressed, too."

She shrugged.

"Well, I meant it. You are quite noble when you bother to be, and you are certainly have more right to the title of nobility than that treacherous count."

He grinned.

"I was more referring to the declarations of love. How did you put it?"

Crosby dropped the reins and clasped his hands together and mimicked her high-pitched voice.

"From the moment he set foot in my world, he stole my heart…We were destined to be together."

His hands went back to the reins.

"Pretty powerful stuff, my lady."

Louise blushed.

"T-that was nothing! That was just acting on my part!" She stammered.

Crosby chuckled.

"It's okay, my lady, I knew you were I was just teasing you. Besides I don't want to get your boyfriend Saito over here jealous."

She glared at him, flushed an even deeper pink in the face and started beating on the back his armored vest with her riding crop.

"STUPID! BODYGUARD! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID…"

Casually, the Zulu Squad sergeant grabbed her riding crop and tossed it into a river as they crossed over it. She resumed beating on him with her tiny fists, with no reaction from him.

Lugo watched this scene with a grin; Crosby sure knew how to push the pink-haired girl's buttons.

**(back at the Palace)**

"Hey, Joe! Hand me the 8" crescent wrench."

Tebby had the maintenance hatch off the Little Bird and was up to his elbows in greasy engine parts. The added weight on the last flight and running it at higher rpms meant more checkups on the chopper's gearbox and oil system. When the sniper handed him the tool he looked over to him.

"Say, you never did tell me what the pretty green-haired lady in the white light told you."

The taciturn sniper was lost in thougt. He recalled the moment their Little Bird crashed into Walker's Blackhawk. Like the lieutenant, he didn't feel fear or anger, just the consolation that nobody else would die that day. Then his world was engulfed in white light.

He saw her, the lady in the light, with flowing green hair that seemed tousled by an unseen wind and eyes the same color as her hair. Her radiant face smiled at him, but it was tinged with sadness.

**_"You looked up to him, didn't you? Which made the ensuing betrayal all the more painful, didn't it, Private Alexander Walker?"_**

Memories rushed past, his older brother Martin standing up for him in school, helping him with his homework, playing football with him, spending hours playing the original Contra. He remembered his brother's high school graduation, then Martin coming back from ROTC officer training over the summer, his graduation from college and his commissioning as a 2nd Lieutenant.

He remembered being so proud of him, and so envious. So when he turned 18 he immediately enlisted, and requested a transfer to his brother's unit; the 33rd Mobile Infantry Battalion, commanded by the legendary Colonel John Konrad.

He felt a soft hand touch his cheek, and looked up. It was the lady, still with the same sad smile.

**_"You must let go of that pain and regret, for every weave within the Great Tapestry has its own pattern that can only be read by those who were there when it was woven. Your pattern had run its course within the tapestry, and it was prewoven and unable to be changed. There is another tapestry, one where the pattern can be changed for the better, and you can help. If you will do this for me I will grant your heart's desire."_**

"With all due respect, ma'am, how do you know what I want?"

She took both his hands and came closer until their faces were mere inches apart.

**_"Your heart's desire is the simplest of all, and yet also the most difficult. But I will grant it to you."_**

She kissed him on the lips, and he felt a surge of electricity through his body, and the next thing he knew he was seated in his gunner's chair on the Little Bird.

He looked over to Tebby, who had paused in messing with the gearbox and was looking at him.

"She knew my name, my real name, I mean."

Tebby looked puzzled.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask ya about that, Joe. What is your real name?"

The sniper hung his head.

"It's Alex. Private First Class Alex Walker."

There was a clang, and he looked up to see Tebby's shocked expression, he had dropped his wrench. Alex smiled bitterly.

"Yeah, as in that Walker, I'm Captain Walker's younger brother."

He shook his head.

"I looked up to him, and joined the Army because of him. We served together briefly, I wasn't in his platoon, brass was already having a shit-fit about two family members serving in the same battalion. When I was a newcomer and was getting orientation, I saw him and he was about the same as I remembered. Then Kabul happened. I wasn't there, I only saw the aftermath. Because of what happened Konrad pulled strings and got him four day leave and we went to Amsterdam to try and decompress."

He looked back to Tebby.

"Martin had changed after that incident. Most of the time he was fine, but then there would come these times when he would space off, and act as if you weren't even there. Or he'd be talking to someone that wasn't there. I remember the second night we were there we got really hammered and we were laughing about something or the other, and all of a sudden he started crying, rattling off names and crying. When we reported back to base he seemed okay, but shortly after that he requested a transfer to Swick at Fort Bragg. Said he needed a change of pace. I had heard that he graduated with flying colors, and managed to get into Delta Force. I was still in the Rockpile when he graduated, but I got an email about it."

Tebby still looked shocked.

"But, when he showed up…how did you…"

"By that point I was part of the highrise sniper cadre, we were pretty isolated from the rest of the 33rd. My cadre was the only ones who knew my name, and I had insisted to them that it had to be a mistake. It couldn't have been my brother. Even when I heard word about the Gate Massacre, I still didn't believe it. Then after Lt. Gordon bought the farm during the water truck raid, in the ensuing chaos I took off my name tape and made my buddies swear to secrecy. It was my secret shame, and from that moment on I went by 'Joe'. I figured the odds of us getting out alive after the water was gone were pretty much nil anyways."

Alex hung his head.

"Then that day came, that fateful day that keeps replaying in my mind over and over again. We had received word that Walker and his team were trying to get to the Radioman in his tower, so we were on high alert. Me and my spotter had zip-lined to an adjacent highrise to do some visual recon. When I was doing a sweep of the skyline, I saw him. I could barely recognize him, he was ragged and bloodied, but I knew it was him."

He glared at Tebby.

"I had him in my sights, dead to rights. I could have pulled the trigger and ended the madness right then and there!"

He shook his head.

"But I didn't. A part of me, the part that still loved my brother, couldn't. My spotter was pissed, and told me to stay put, and he zip-lined back. All I could do was watch through my scope as that sick bastard murdered all my buddies one by one. I felt sick. So when Sgt. Crosby, as the commander of Zulu Squad and the leader of the Little Bird Squadron, requested volunteers for door gunners I took it. I thought maybe I could undo the damage. Or at least end the pain."

Alex felt his knees give out from under him, and he fell the ground weeping silent tears. He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Tebby crouching next to him.

"Kid, I'm not going to try and BS you by trying to talk the pain away. That shit is something you have to square away on your own time. But don't spend too much time dwelling on the past, or hating the dead. For what it's worth I got your back."

He stood up and grinned.

"At least I know your name now, and can introduce you to all the ladies!"

He looked over and saw the blonde knight approaching. He also noticed that as soon as she made eye contact with the sniper she blushed. He smiled to himself. Looks like Jeanne and Marlène have competition. The knight spoke.

"Colonel Konrad requests your presence in the palace; it is of an urgent nature."

**(back in the artisan district of Tristainia)**

Crosby had parked the wagon and supervised Lugo and Saito manhandle the strongbox off the wagon. The pinkette had finally tired of beating on him, mostly because she was getting no reaction from him, and had hopped off the wagon. Crosby had moved ahead to open the door, and suddenly realized there was someone else in the shop. He brought his weapon to bear, and the stranger made a flourishing bow.

"Ah, Sir Crosby it is good to see you again."

He lowered his weapon a fraction, and heard the sound of Lugo cocking his TAR-21.

"And you as well, Sir Percival. I am afraid the shop is closed, but if you wish I can send word to Mr. Konrad."

The Albion noble shook his head.

"That will not be necessary, it was not Mr. Konrad that I wished to see."

He looked over and saw Lugo brandishing his weapon.

"Please, Sir Crosby, I come to parley."

He set his wand and sword on the workbench.

"If that will put your mind at ease."

Crosby lowered his weapon and looked over and nodded to Lugo.

"Lugo, take the kids upstairs and be on the lookout for trouble."

"Roger that, sarge."

He turned back to Sir Percival, who was examining the anvil by the workbench.

"You know, Sir Crosby, when we met in Londinium, I knew there was more to you that met the eye, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought you were from another world."

Crosby tried to feign ignorance.

"Really, Sir Percival, I know you don't have a very high opinion of Tristain, but to call it another world is a bit absurd."

The noble turned and chuckled. He walked over to Crosby, taking in his Zulu Squad uniform and helmet, finally fixating on his P90.

"You will forgive me for saying this, but you are most unusually dressed, for a knight. Nothing, not the clothes you wear nor the weapons you brandish seem to be anything from this world. So I ask you, why do you support the Tristain nobles? Surely you can see they are just a gaggle of corrupt idiots born into privilege while less fortunate ones slave away to support them?"

Crosby smiled.

"It's true, there are some that do an injustice to the name noble, but there are bad apples in every bunch. Surely the Reconquista's hands are not clean."

Sir Percival smiled thinly.

"Yes, it's true. Our hands aren't clean, and there are days when I even question our methods as a means to an end. But what is it like in your world? Surely there are places where the countries are not ruled by tyrants."

The Zulu Squad sergeant sat down on one of the stools and motioned the noble to do the same.

"Our world is very similar to yours in many respects, the names of the countries, and even some names within the different factions. There are good governments and bad governments in my world."

Crosby pointed to the black and white upside-down flag on his assault vest.

"That is the symbol of the country I served, and it was a success story in a government being ruled by its citizens. But it's an exception to the rule, and last I heard of it the cracks were already showing in the foundation."

He looked down.

"I've witnessed firsthand what happens when you try and unseat tyranny by force, take his power away and put it in the hands of those whom he was oppressing. It's not pretty. You end up with chaos, bloodshed, and then some power block takes advantage of the vacuum, takes control and ends up being ten times worse than the tyrant you unseated."

Crosby shook his head.

"As bad as it sounds, sometimes the status quo is the lesser of two evils."

He looked over to Sir Percival, who had a pensive look on his face.

"I will ask it, although I already know the answer, not because of that but because you are an honorable man and would give me an honest answer."

He looked directly at Crosby.

"If you had ended up on Albion instead of Tristain, if your first contact was say, me, instead of those spoiled Tristain nobles, would you have joined my cause?"

Crosby smiled.

"Honestly, I don't know. If you were as on the level then as you are now, I probably would have. Although I couldn't say for sure."

The noble seemed satisfied and stood up.

"Very well, it is a shame I could not have on my side. Your skills and your character would go far in convincing others of our cause."

He took his sword and wand and gave another bow.

"Farewell, Sir Crosby, may the next time we meet be in honorable combat on the battlefield!"

Crosby returned the bow.

"For your sake, I hope not. Farewell Sir Percival."

Without another word the noble left. Outside, Sir Percival saw his traveling companion, a woman concealed in a deep cloak, only her violet eyes visible.

"So the bodyguard will not be turned." She stated rather than asked.

Sir Percival shook his head.

"As I feared, he is an honorable man, who cannot be tempted by mere power or ambition. More's the pity."

The woman smiled, but it unsettled the noble.

"More's the pity indeed. Then we must be off, Cromwell will want to hear the bad news quickly. But first."

She nodded to a couple of thugs, one holding a large ceramic jug with a rag stuffed into the spout and the other a torch. The one set the rag on fire with the torch and the other, heaved the jug into the shop, where it burst into flames.

"What in Brimir's name are you doing, witch?" he shouted at her.

She continued to smile.

"Why, we have to send a message to Konrad not to interfere with Reconquista affairs."

"But Sir Crosby is still in there! And there are children in there as well!"

She shrugged.

"It is unfortunate that they were in there at the time. Let us hope they can escape before the flames engulf them."

Sir Percival glared at her, and quickly marched over to a tavern adjacent to the smithy shop. The tavern owner was in the process of repainting his sign on a ladder, only to have it rudely taken out from under him. He clutched to the sign for purchase, but slipped and fell into a passing manure cart, cursing the idiot who took his ladder. Sir Percival had placed the ladder under the attic window, and with a blast of his wand smashed the glass.

He turned back to catch up to Sheffield, who was seething.

"What are you doing you fool!"

He smiled lightly.

"As you said, it would have been unfortunate if they perished in the flame. I merely made sure it didn't come to that."

She stormed off in a huff.

"Cromwell will hear of this, Percival, mark my words!"

Sir Percival's smile vanished, and in its place was a frown. He looked over his shoulder and saw Sir Crosby and the other man helping the two children out of the burning house and down the ladder.

"Cromwell will hear of many things, Sheffield, of that I promise."

_(AN: DUNDUNDUUUUUUNNNN! So now you know the truth about Joe the Sniper! And maybe this Sir Percival isn't as bad an egg as we thought originally. I did want to include a sympathetic character within the Reconquista to show things from their perspective. Anyways, next chapter deals with the war council. Hopefully I'll have it up by the end of the week.)_


	34. The Road back, Part Trois

_(AN: So here is the last part of Road Back, it's a lot shorter than I would like, but I've been suffering from a massive writer's block this week. Thanks to AznMagicman for weapon suggestions, this chapter primarily will set the stage for the coming war with the Reconquista.)_

"Colonel Konrad requests your presence in the palace; it is of an urgent nature."

Tebby looked up at the blonde knight.

"Did he say what it was about, ma'am?"

She shook her head.

"No, only that he asked that Corporal Tebby bring his 'shoot-gun', whatever that it."

The corporal wiped grease off his hands with a rag and smiled.

"I think he meant 'shotgun', and yes I can bring that."

He went over to the metal box welded to the floor of the chopper, which served as their armory. As Tebby performed this task, Agnès turned to the young sniper and blushed.

"I-I am sorry for attacking you earlier, sir. It was a mistake on my part."

The sniper shook his head.

"It's no big deal, ma'am. Fog of war and all that."

Agnès looked puzzled. He sighed.

"It means I forgive you, no harm no foul."

She nodded, but was still flushed.

"Could I ask you something, sir?"

"Sure."

"What is your name?"

He paused, and saw Tebby looking at him.

"It's Walker, ma'am, Alex Walker."

A small smile crept across her face.

"Please call me Agnès, I am not your superior."

Tebby grinned as approached with his trusty W1300 shotgun.

"Alright, if you two lovebirds can stop the awkward flirting for a minute, I have the 'shoot-gun'. Ma'am, go ahead and lead the way."

Both the sniper and the knight blushed, and any angry retort Alex was going to say was cut off by Agnès briskly marching off in the direction of the palace.

**(Meanwhile, inside the palace)**

"I wish to voice my objections to this, with respect, your highness."

Princess Henrietta stopped her discourse with Konrad and looked over to the interrupter. General du Poitiers was an older distinguished-looking noble wearing a highly ornate armored breastplate and gorget over his uniform, topped off with an ermine cape.

"And why would that be, General?"

"Whilst I understand the need to utilize whatever means we have at our disposal, it seems cowardly to use ranged weapons. It takes the valor and honor away from the battlefield and turns it into a massacre."

Before the princess could reply it was Konrad that spoke.

"With all due respect general, we face a numerically superior foe that will not let things like honor and valor get in the way of victory."

Henrietta nodded.

"I can appreciate what you say, General. I have not entertained these thoughts lightly. I have seen what these weapons can do firsthand, and I shudder to think the kind of a world were such weapons are commonplace. But I have a responsibility to look after my kingdom, and if utilizing these destructive weapons means saving lives of my subjects then so be it."

The door to the princess's war room opened, and Agnès entered followed by the other two soldiers. The female knight bowed.

"Your highness, Colonel Konrad, here are the soldiers you requested."

Konrad nodded.

"The princess speaks wisdom, but there is a minor problem. The weapons you have seen us use, such as the miniguns on our airship or the portable machinegun that Sir Crosby wields have very intricate workings."

He motioned over to Bowles, who was standing at attention behind him.

"Lieutenant, may I see your weapon?"

Bowles nodded, and crisply removed his M9 from its holster on his belt and offered it to his CO. Konrad accepted it, ejected the magazine and pulled the slide back into a locked position. He then handed the unloaded weapon to Henrietta, who looked it over with undisguised interest.

"Your highness, this is an M9 semiautomatic handgun. It is a personal defense weapon of soldiers that were under my command in the 33rd. It is a less-sophisticated cousin to the machineguns whose power you have witnessed."

She looked up from the handgun to Konrad.

"That object you removed from its underside, that is where the projectiles are stored?"

"Yes, your highness. Unlike your muskets these weapons fire bullets."

He held one of the 9mm bullets up between his thumb and forefinger.

"These bullets have a self-contained explosive charge within the cylindrical cartridge behind the actual projectile; this combined with the primer allows the bullet to travel at much higher speeds."

He took the handgun back from the princess.

"Combined with rifling within the barrel of the weapon, the semiautomatic handgun has greater range and accuracy than a musket. However, it is also more complex. It uses a very intricate mechanism for chambering each round, one that with the tools and materials available in this world would make it next to impossible to reproduce in the quantities necessary for the war effort."

He put the magazine back into the M9, cocked it and handed it back to Bowles. The colonel looked over to Tebby.

"Corporal, may I see your weapon?"

Tebby handed Konrad his shotgun. Konrad racked the slide, until all eight shells had been ejected, and handed it to the princess.

"This is a shotgun, it uses the same principle as the handgun, insofar as it the firing principle. However, each cartridge or shell is manually chambered by this pump action. It's simple enough to where I think I could reverse engineer it and make a copy of it."

Henrietta examined the shotgun with its sawed off barrel and pistol grip wrapped in duct tape.

"So this weapon is something you could make?"

Konrad nodded.

"I think I can have a prototype within a couple of weeks. We will have to muster every smithy in the kingdom to produce them en mass before the Reconquista makes its move."

He was interrupted by loud voices outside and the door being kicked open. Sgt. Crosby rushed in, reeking of smoke, carrying Louise. The pinkette was covered in soot, barely conscious and coughing. Sgt. Lugo came in after the Zulu Squad soldier carrying Saito, who was unconscious.

"I need a medic or a healer stat!" Crosby shouted.

Henrietta immediately sent her knight to seek out a healer. Konrad helped Crosby set the pinkette down onto a couch.

"What happened, Crosby?"

The old soldier shook his head.

"The Reconquista happened, sir. Sir Percival, the noble we met at the festival, was in your shop when we arrived. He tried to persuade me to switch sides and join his cause. When I refused he seemed understanding. But shortly after that someone threw some sort of Molotov cocktail into your shop."

"How did you escape?"

"Someone, I suspect Sir Percival, left a ladder by the attic window."

Crosby looked down at Louise.

"If it wasn't there we might not have all gotten out of there alive."

Henrietta arrived with healers in tow.

"See to these young ones, please!"

While the healers were busy helping the two teenagers, Konrad spoke.

"Were you able to salvage anything?"

Crosby shook his head.

"Lugo was able to save your metal footlocker and your medals display case. Other than that everything else was torched."

Konrad looked down at the display case, and picked it up.

"I guess that makes short work of my blacksmithing career."

Henrietta approached bowed her head.

"I am sorry for dragging you into this, Mr. Konrad. If not for me you would not have lost your wagon, your shop or your livelihood."

He gave a reassuring smile.

"It's alright, your highness. War is hell and a dirty business, and bad things happen. I am just grateful not to have lost any men in the process."

The princess placed a hand on his arm.

"I have several blacksmiths on staff at the palace here, you are welcome to stay."

"I appreciate that, your highness."

He nodded over to Crosby, who was busy fussing over Louise and Saito.

"From what I'm told the Academy of Magic is already getting pretty crowded."

_(AN: And I feel bad since this is such a short chapter. I had churned out like 3/4's of this chapter, but by Wednesday I was hit by the aforementioned block. And it doesn't help that the knucklehead whom I bought the FOZ seasons from is taking his sweet time getting them to me. Not to worry, though, I have the next chapter stubbed out and should have it done by Monday or Tuesday at the latest!)_


	35. Intel Operative, Part Deux

_(AN: Hooray! 10,000 visitors to this story! That is soooo awesome. After I finished my happy-dance I went ahead and posted this second part to Intel Operative. Like the Road Back there will be a third part, but I figured I'd get this up before the weekend. To reference a question, the Intel Operative chapter(s) technically takes place after the events of The Road Back. Anyways heeeere's Gordon!)_

**(T+72 hours after Prince Wales' assassination)**

Gordon awoke from troubled dreams of Dubai. Specifically the ones where he was pulling a extra shift manning a turret and sleeping in a HUMVEE. He felt like he's been sleeping on the floor. And as he became aware of his surroundings, he found that to be true. He had been sleeping on the floor. A soft sigh came from the bed not far from where he had been sleeping and reminded him why he was sleeping on the floor.

He and Tiffania had arrived in Tristain the day before, traveling through the countryside to a large forest on the outskirts of Tristainia. The elf girl had a cottage deep in the forest, and she said they could spend the night there. Gordon had volunteered to sleep on the floor, and that's when things got awkward.

"Why?" She asked, puzzled. "The bed is big enough for both of us."

"Well," he said scratching the back of his neck nervously, "I don't think it would be appropriate for, well, you know…"

The fact that she was very pretty and sporting a bust that would make most porn actresses jealous didn't make it any easier. She blushed.

"It's because I'm an elf, right?"

"No, no, no!"

He said very frantically. The last thing he wanted was a diplomatic incident. He continued.

"It's just that where I come from, in my world, it's inappropriate for girl and a guy who don't know each other to share a bed. I don't mind sleeping on the floor, okay?"

She seemed disappointed, and had told him that if he changed his mind he could come to bed any time, the nights could get chilly, she had said.

At the time the lieutenant had shook his head at her naiveté, and insisted it would be alright for him to sleep on the floor.

He was interrupted from his musings by a yawn, and saw Tiffania sit up in bed and stretch, puffing out her already impressive rack. He quickly looked away and thought about the time he got shot in the ass in Kabul.

"Oh, you're awake already? I hope you spend the whole night on the floor?"

Her shimmering blue eyes seemed worried, and he allowed a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, I slept great." He lied.

**(Later that morning)**

The streets of Tristania were bustling with tradesmen and workers plying their trade in the morning. Everyone gave a wide berth to a young woman with a green cloak and a wide sun hat. More to the point, they were giving a wide berth to her and her escort, a large armor-plated golem brandishing some very bizarre looking sleek musket.

"Relax, Tiffania, everything is going to be fine."

She jumped at the sound of Gordon's voice sounding so distorted through the concealed speaker in his helmet.

It was Gordon's idea that he would suit up in his Heavy Trooper armor, for intimidation of anyone that might find out she was an elf in disguise, and even in Tristain the Jester and his golem had a reputation. Which was why everyone was giving them a wide berth.

"See Tif? Everyone's so scared of me they're not even giving you a second thought."

She looked up at him.

"Aren't you uncomfortable in that suit?"

"Oh, I'm fine." He lied.

Truth be told he was sweating like a pig in the afternoon heat. He was exhausted too, the result of getting a fitful night's sleep. In the early morning hours he could have sworn he heard the distant familiar sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air. He shook his head. Just his imagination.

"Not to worry, I'm fine in this suit. And if it helps protect you, it's worth it."

He paused to get his bearings, wearing the bulky helmet practically eliminated all of his peripheral vision, after he finished his scan he noticed Tiffania was still looking at him.

"What is it? Is my fly open?"

She looked puzzled again.

"I don't understand."

"I mean, you're kind of looking at me funny."

"Oh, it's nothing, it's just you've been so kind to me, and yet you hardly know me. You remind me of someone I used to know."

He checked a couple of rough-looking types who immediately shuffled off when they saw the imposing golem staring at them.

"Really? Who was he?"

"I don't know, I never got his name. But he saved me from danger, and never asked for anything in return."

"What happened to him?"

She looked crestfallen.

"He left after only one day, said he would be back. But he never came back. He was so kind. I felt safe when I was with him."

She looked up at Gordon.

"Like I do with you!"

She was doing that eye shimmer again, Gordon thought to himself. He interrupted his thoughts to look ahead. The palace loomed up in front of them.

"Looks like we're here."

"What if they don't let us in?" She asked.

He patted his AA-12 automatic shotgun with the 'Damned 33rd' logo on it.

"That's what this baby is for, diplomacy through superior firepower. Let me do the talking."

They approached the gates, where there were two knight guarding the gate. All their bravado left them as soon as they saw a large, imposing golem in bizarre armor.

"S-state your business!" One of the guards stammered. The golem spoke in a deep, menacing voice.

"I bring word from the Jester, for the ears of your monarch. War is coming to Tristian. Give us entrance."

"Or else?"

The golem leveled his weapon, which looked like a sleek musket.

"Unpleasant things happen. This news will not wait, and one way or another the princess must hear of it."

One guard turned to the other.

"Go get Agnès, quickly!"

**(10 minutes later)**

The captain of the Musketeer Knights was hurrying to the palace gates. A frantic messenger had told her that the Jester's otherworldly golem was at the gates demanding an audience with the princess. It was making ominous threats if refused. She was still contemplating this as she rounded the corner and approached the entrance. She gasped.

The golem was large and menacing. Standing behind the golem was a girl with a green traveling cloak and a broad-brimmed sunhat. There was something familiar about the golem. Her eyes fell onto the golem's weapon and she let out another gasp. On his weapon was a small emblem with a fanged skull. It was the same emblem worn by the odd soldiers under Konrad's command.  
She took a step forward and addressed the golem.

"The princess is indisposed at the moment, but I have a question. Your emblem, on your weapon, what does it signify?"

The golem froze.

"Why do you ask?"

"Do you know someone by the name of Crosby, or Konrad?"

It took a step forward, and she had to resist the temptation to step back. Then it did something that surprised her. It let go of its weapon, letting it dangle on the strap, and reached for its head.

Gordon flipped open his visor, and pulled down his baklava.

"Sgt. Crosby is here?"

**(meanwhile, in the courtyard)**

"Say, sarge, does the lady in the white light ever visit you in your sleep?"

Crosby looked up from eating. He had declined Henrietta's invite to lunch and asked if they could send some food over to their improvised landing pad by the Little Bird. Bowles was still with Konrad in the second day of the princess's war council, which left Tebby still messing with the chopper, Lugo and Alex shooting empty bottles in the courtyard, and Crosby watching over Louise and Saito as they recovered from the fire. The healers had said that both teens would make a full recovery, but he still spent most of his time at the pinkette's bedside. He took a break for lunch.

"Sometimes the Weaver crops up, why? Did she show up last night?"

Alex thought for a moment.

"She showed up in my dreams, last night."

Alex was back in the light, and he saw the same lady. She was smiling at him.

**_"So, how does the lonely sniper like the new world?"_**

He shrugged.

"Locals are a bit weird, but it's nice."

She put a delicate hand to her mouth and giggled.

**_"You really should take whatever comfort is offered to you, Alex Walker. Not many get second chances like this."_**

He returned her smile.

"So, what brings you to my dreams?"

The smile disappeared from the lady's lips.

**_"I know that you felt anger at what happened in your old life. But you must let go of your anger at your brother."_**

"What do you know about my brother?"

Her smile returned.

_**"He is in another world, trust in my words when I say that he is atoning for his sins. Your quest is just beginning, take heart and know that in this pattern you can be the hero."**_

Alex looked at Crosby.

"She said that Walker, Captain Walker, was in another world, it makes me wonder where he went."

Crosby was about to respond when he saw the knight captain approach.

"Sir Crosby, Konrad requests your presence in the war room. Someone has brought word from Albion. And he appears to know you."

_(AN: yeah I'm a stinker for ending it here, but the third part will involve a flashback of Konrad's first day in Helkeginia. Should have it up by the middle of next week. Until then, enjoy!)_


	36. Intel Operative, Part Trois

_(AN: So here's the last part of Intel Operative! After this I think I'm taking a short break, anywhere from a couple of days to a week, just to recharge. But I figured I'd throw some fun bits in here for you to enjoy!)_

Tiffania's eyes widened when she saw Konrad. The blonde knight captain had led them into the palace and ushered them into the war room. Gordon had removed his helmet and was marveling at the thought of seeing his old CO. In the war room he saw three gentlemen in ornate noble's robes sitting at a table and debating with a young purple-haired lady sitting at the head of the table. The lady he recognized from intel photos as the monarch of Tristain, Princess Henrietta.

But there was a man standing at the end of the table pouring over some sketches and blueprints. The man that caught Gordon's attention was an older man wearing an olive-green dress uniform. Colonel John Konrad. But before he could even speak it was the elf girl that beat him to the punch.

"It's you!"

She exclaimed and rushed over to the colonel and hugged him tightly. Konrad was too shocked to see another of his soldiers to pay attention to the girl in the green dress, but when she collided with him her hat came off, he saw her ears and suddenly he remembered.

He remembered his first morning in the new world, waking up in a bed and thinking he was back in Dubai. As he brushed the cobwebs of sleep from his mind he recalled the very vividly weird dream he had, being in a forest, rescuing a girl from evil-doers, following her back to her cottage. The real kicker was the dream transitioned to night and he was looking up at the alien sky with two moons. He sat up and was about to get out of bed when he realized three things; first, the room was not his penthouse suite at the Burj Khalifa hotel tower in Dubai, second, he wasn't alone in bed, and thirdly the occupant was female.

Tiffania stretched and yawned, and looked over at her savior. He looked as if he had just woken up as well, and had the oddest look on his face. He shook his head.

"I guess it wasn't a dream, then."

Crosby smiled at the sight of his CO being glomped by an elf girl. He looked over to the princess and saw her watch this scene unfold with disapproval in her eyes. Was that jealousy? The princess cleared her throat, and Tiffania blushed and quickly disengaged from Konrad.

"My apologies, your highness. I bring word that the Reconquista plans to invade Tristain."

While Tiffania spoke, Crosby looked over to 'golem' wearing armor Heavy Trooper. He recognized the face.

"Lieutenant Gordon, sir?"

The young lieutenant grinned.

"It's good to see you again, sergeant."

Crosby nodded over to the elf girl.

"I like the company you keep, but aren't you jealous that she may carry the torch for someone else?"

Gordon shook his head.

"No, sergeant, Tiff is just very, very naïve. She doesn't realize that things she does that are innocent reasons have certain connotations."

He looked his Zulu Squad sergeant over.

"So, you're with the royal Tristain court, huh?"

It was Crosby's turn to shake his head.

"Negative, I'm actually a Bodyguard Chevalier to a little pink-haired witch who attends the Tristain Academy of Magic. She's BFF's with the princess, hence why I'm here."

Gordon nodded.

"So how did you get here?"

"Probably the same way as you, a beautiful woman with green hair said I could do good and become the hero. I've been here slightly over a week. How about you, how long have you been here?"

"About three months give or take. I've been holed up in Albion. Believe it or not I saw you in Londinium, that day of the festival."

"Really?"

"Yep, I was the prince's contact; actually I was acting on behalf of Darden."

Crosby raised an eyebrow.

"You mean to tell me that of all the members of the Damned 33rd that could have showed up, that loudmouthed hippie prick Robert Darden, aka the Radioman is here?"

Gordon smiled.

"He's not that bad, sergeant. Actually I take that back, he can be an annoying prick. But he is helping with the war effort by staging acts of sabotage and roadside bombing against the Reconquista. I got sick of his games and decided to leave Albion with the girl. I figured I could do more good here than playing golem to Darden's Jester."

He looked over from his conversation to Gordon and saw Konrad approach. He straightened up and saluted his CO.

"Lt. Gordon, sir, reporting with war asset."

Konrad returned the salute and smiled.

"So, Lieutenant, what do you think of the assets on our war asset?"

Gordon attempted to keep a straight face.

"Sir, with all due respect, I would ask the same of the colonel, sir."

That broke the mood and all three soldiers burst out laughing.

"All joking aside, sir, it's good to see you made it here."

"Likewise, lieutenant, although I wish it were under better circumstances."

Crosby looked over the elf girl, who was engaged in an in-depth interview with the princess and her advisors.

"What's the news?"

Gordon shook his head.

"Not good. Cromwell and his Reconquista have usurped power, and they're going to use Prince Wales' assassination as an excuse to declare war on Tristain. Word is they're mustering an army of thousands."

Konrad looked over at some sketches he had made of the prototype weapons.

"How long do we have?"

The lieutenant shrugged.

"More than a month, less than twelve weeks. It's summer in Albion so they're going to wait until after harvest before mustering troops."

Konrad nodded.

"That might give us enough time to put some weapons into the hands of Henrietta's troops, some weapons that could do real damage."

The Zulu Squad sergeant suddenly remembered something.

"Colonel, Lieutenant, sirs, with your permission I have to take leave. I forgot I have to check on someone, sir."

The colonel smiled.

"Dismissed, sergeant; go check on our little pink-haired pint-sized powerhouse and make sure she's alright. That's an order."

Crosby saluted and left the room.

The Zulu Squad sergeant found the blonde fop Guiche watching over the sleeping Louise and Saito. The blonde teen stood up.

"Have either of them woken up, Guiche?"

"No, Sir Crosby, not since you left. Louise was speaking your name in her sleep."

He nodded.

"Go get some chow, kid, I'll take this shift."

Guiche did not need any encouragement and left. Crosby sat in the large high-backed chair between the beds. Suddenly the pinkette sat up in bed.

"Sir Bodyguard Crosby!"

He quickly left the chair and sat on her bedside.

"I'm right here, my lady. Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Her large eyes focused on the Zulu Squad sergeant and she smiled.

"Oh, thank you for saving me, Sir Crosby! I thought we were going to die."

He smiled.

"I'm your bodyguard, remember? I'd be a lousy bodyguard if I let something happen to you or Saito."

She did a take and looked over to the bed where Saito was sleeping.

"How is he? Is he injured?"

Crosby grinned.

"Rest easy, my lady."

She turned back to him.

"Your boyf-" She gave him a deathglare at the innuendo, and he decided not to push his luck, "your familiar is fine, he is just sleeping. You should get some rest yourself."

She nodded, and put a small finger to her chin.

"We have to get back to the Academy, I forgot we have mid-terms next week."

The pinkette yawned.

"I need to get back so I can study."

"Or pretend to study, you mean?"

She feebly hit him on the forearm.

"Stupid! Bodyguard!"

He chuckled and stood up.

"Very well, my lady should get her rest so she can study when we arrive in the Tristain Academy of Magic tomorrow."

That night, even though Henrietta had offered sleeping quarters for all the soldiers, Tebby opted to sleep by their improvised campsite by the Little Bird, to keep guard over his baby. Originally all three of the soldiers from Bravo Six had opted to sleep by the campsite, but Bowles was ordered by Konrad to quarter in the palace as his _de facto_ adjunct, saying something about misery loving company, and Alex was coaxed by Agnès to have dinner with the rest of the Musketeer Guards, and had not come back yet. Lugo and Gordon had gone off with a cask of wine to 'clear the air' as they called it, and had not returned.

Crosby had fallen asleep in his chair again. At least he thought he had fallen asleep, but then he saw the Weaver of Fate sitting on the side of the bed gazing at the pinkette.

**_"You care about her, don't you Robert Crosby?"_**

He nodded.

"She might talk a big game about being a snooty noble brat, but I know her better. There's a good person under that exterior."

He jerked a thumb over to Saito's sleeping form.

"And although she won't ever admit it, she cares about that kid. Even if she shows it by beating the crap out of him."

The Weaver put a slender hand to her mouth and giggled.

**_"Yes, that is true, their ways are not your ways. You care for her, because only you know what burdens she has to carry alone. And you know what that feels like. She is lucky to have a hero to protect her."_**

Crosby's smile disappeared from his face.

"Yeah, about that, what's up with putting her in all that danger, between the Reconquista and Tall, Red and Gruesome crashing the party at La Roche, that's not exactly what I would call a nice pattern in this tapestry."

The Weaver's face sobered.

**_"The path of the hero is fraught with its own perils. There are many patterns in this Tapestry, and unfortunately there is One from the Dark Realms who weaves His own patterns within this Tapestry."_**

Crosby looked up.

"What do you mean; you mean that dragon we encountered is a bad-guy from another realm?"

She shook her head sadly.

**_"No, regretfully Nahkriin, the red dragon of Vengeance, is but a minion of the Enemy. This Nahkriin was once a man from your world. Specifically he was one you knew by the name of Thomas Daniels."_**

The old sergeant looked shocked.

"You mean, Special Agent Daniels, the CIA spook we captured and interrogated?"

The Weaver nodded.

**_"He was a man who burned with the need for revenge, and had blinded himself with anger and hatred. He was already beyond my reach before the Enemy ensnared him, seduced him and remade him in His own twisted image. Your friend John McPherson was well on his way into His clutches before I rescued him, and gave him an opportunity to atone for his sins. The Enemy is most strong and determined."_**

"That would explain why he said 'Konrad'."

Crosby was almost afraid to ask the next question.

"W-who is this Enemy?"

**_"An ancient evil that existed in another world; Alduin, whose name means 'Devourer of Worlds' in his profane dragon tongue. He wishes entrance to this world so he can destroy it. In hundreds of different patterns I saw Him being awakened by the foolish threads within this tapestry, fools who think they can control His power. That is why I sent you here. This great Enemy is something far beyond the powers here. Even if the young one fulfills his destiny as Gandálfr, his powers will not be sufficient to defeat Him, should He awaken."_**

"But I am."

Another smile crept across the Weaver's face, and she stood off the bed and crouched next to his chair.

**_"Yes, you are. You are a good person, Robert Crosby, and I could see your potential. That is why I plucked you from that sand-swept hell you were confined in. Even there I could see you had the heart of a hero, and with that heart you will defeat the Enemy and earn the title."_**

She leaned in and kissed his forehead. In spite of his conscious slipped he couldn't help the quip.

"You really should stop that, Lady; people will talk about us being an item."

She giggled again.

**_"So let them talk! Remember your loyalty and faith in your friends do you credit, and remember as long as you make the decisions for good, you are a good person. There are difficult times on the horizon, but you will have interludes of laughter and happiness. Be sure to pause and enjoy those moments."_**

_ (AN: Well, there you have it, we've ended this arc on a high note, and demonstrating that even Colonel Konrad is not immune to the 'Unwanted Harem' trope. _

_We're gearing up for the next arc, which will be rated 'ES' for 'Extremely Silly' as it takes place in Tristain Academy of Magic. There have been some comments that Saito and Louise and co. have taken a back seat in this arc, and that is true. This one was primarily to develop and introduce the new _Spec Ops: The Line_ characters. I promise next arc will have more focus on the FOZ characters and the various hijinks they get into. _

_Now, I have to take about a week off to catch up on my _Familiar Of Zero_ research, and recharge the creative juices. That's not to say I may not get another chapter up in the meantime, but just a heads up so if you don't see me updating I haven't died or anything LOL. In the meantime I'll leave you with a quote that I think is appropriate for the story :)_

_"A man cannot become a hero until he can see the root of his own downfall."_

_— Aristotle_


	37. Close Combat Carnage

_(AN: So my flight was grounded due to the excessive snow that seems to be permeating the Northeast section of USA, and in the downtime I churned this chapter out. Over the week I came up with an idea for a twist on one of the hijinks that happens in FOZ and will occur in this arc. I hope you enjoy it. As previously stated this segment is rated 'ES' for extra silly.)_

Crosby opened his eyes, and saw the Weaver of Fate sitting on the side of the bed looking at him.

"This is all your fault, you know."

She gave him a coy smile.

**_"Why, Robert Crosby, what in the all the Celestial Empyrean do you mean by that?"_**

He glared at her and gestured to himself. He was an odd sight, a younger teen version of himself wearing a black military tee. He looked more like the foppish pretty boy Guiche, the thought rankled him.

"You know what I mean! You've emphasized to me that I am becoming the hero, since when does the hero of this tale turn into a teenaged heartthrob?"

The Weaver shook her head.

**_"As I told you, there are patterns within this Tapestry that I cannot control."_**

That caused Crosby to sit up in bed.

"I call bullshit! Now what's the gag? Is this an exercise in break the haughty soldier by turning him into a teen and having him get molested by a rampaging herd of hormonal chicks? Or is this a way for me to atone for my many sins in Dubai?"

She giggled and put a delicate finger to her lips.

**_"Not so loud, you'll wake your companion."_**

He glanced over to the other side of the bed where the busty redhead was snoring.

"Not likely, you could detonate a nuclear bomb in this room and she'd sleep through it."

He shook his head and lay back on the pillows.

"Could you at least tell me how I can turn back? I mean, I can't righteously slay the dragon if I'm a 90 lb teenager who can barely fire his weapon."

She shook her head.

**_"I cannot give you the means to reverse your condition. But have faith in your companions, and you will be made whole again."_**

She leaned in and kissed his forehead. In spite of himself Crosby smiled.

"You'll make Kirche jealous. Trust me; a jealous fire mage that can barely control her hormones or her abilities is not to be trifled with."

The Weaver giggled again as she stood up off the bed.

**_"Your current situation is not permanent; as I said, have faith in the abilities of your companions. I did tell you that there are difficult decisions on the horizon, in the meantime take advantage of the laughter and happiness."_**

As he drifted back to sleep Crosby thought back to how the hell he got into this situation. If someone had told him yesterday morning what was going to happen to him, he would have laughed at the absurdity of it.

It was just yesterday morning that they had left the palace for Tristain Academy of Magic. Dawn had broke over Tristainia and promised a bright day with plenty of sun, perfect flying weather. In one of the larger courtyards of the royal palace a small group made their way to the improvised campsite and landing pad. The group was a mix of teenagers and soldiers. One of them spoke up.

"You sure you don't want to come with us, sir?"

Lt. Gordon turned and looked at his NCO turned chevalier.

"I'm certain, sergeant. For one thing the colonel here needs all the help he can to get the Tristian military battle ready in the coming weeks."

He nodded over to the pink-haired girl, who was already yelling at her familiar.

"And what I'm told, the Tristain Academy of Magic is already pretty crowded as it is."

Crosby smiled

"Roger that, it's quite the madhouse."

"Speaking of which…"

Gordon reached into the bellows pocket of his ACU trousers and pulled out a large walkie-talkie radio. He handed it to Crosby.

"This radio should have enough range to reach Tristainia. If you need anything, including a lift from Bravo Six once you locate the 'Steel Dragon', give us a buzz. We're on channel twelve, standard IFF protocols apply."

As they approached the chopper Crosby noticed that Tebby and Bowles were performing last-minute preflight checks. He turned back to Gordon and saluted.

"Well, good luck sir, you're going to need it. And if you need any help drop a line."

Gordon returned the salute.

"Same to you, sergeant."

Lugo approached, looking a bit pale and green around the gills. The lieutenant grinned.

"What's the matter, sergeant? That barrel of wine not treating you well?"

The Delta Force sniper shook his head.

"Not so loud, sir. And it wasn't the first barrel that disagreed with me, it was the second and third."

Gordon continued to grin. The two of them had raided the royal wine cellar to 'clear the air' as Lugo called it, and within two hours had become the best of friends in true drunken fratboy fashion. Unfortunately it gave the Delta Force sergeant a rather massive hangover.

"Well, if you need to throw up, I'm sure I can get the royal cook to whip up a nice tall glass of warm curdled milk mixed with lard. You chug that baby down and you'll puke in no time."

Lugo winced.

"Please, sir, not now."

"C'mon sergeant, you can either upchuck now or on your flight to the Academy, and something tells me Cpl. Tebby won't like you doing that to his Little Bird."

Lugo shook his head and staggered towards the chopper. The lieutenant turned and left laughing, leaving the princess and their CO to see them off. Crosby saluted.

"Good luck with your prototypes, Colonel. What I said to Gordon applies here as well; if you need anything let us know."

Konrad smiled.

"Just keep an eye on Miss Vallière, and try to keep her from blowing her stack and blowing up half of Tristain in the process."

The princess turned to Louise, who genuflected with a start.

"I will pray to Brimir that you will be successful in your efforts to thwart the Reconquista, your highness!"

Henrietta smiled and gently pulled the pinkette to her feet, clasping her friend's hands in her own.

"Goodbye my dearest friend and best of luck on your exams. Please try to listen to Sir Crosby."

Louise smiled.

"I will! Goodbye, and please take care of yourself!"

Crosby approached and cleared his throat.

"Your Highness, by your leave. My lady, it's time."

The princess nodded and he helped Louise into the cabin of the Little Bird. Her familiar Saito, the blonde fop Guiche and Lugo followed suit. Crosby was the last to get in, and after Henrietta and Konrad retreated to a safe distance, he gave the thumbs up to the pilot.  
The early morning stillness was broken by the sound of the Little Bird's engine powering up.

_"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Lt. Timothy Bowles, thank you for flying Tristainia Airlines; I'll be your pilot this morning. Federal regulations designate this as a "non-smoking" Little Bird chopper. For those of you who have the 'Helkeginia Frequent Flyer' program, you'll be earning double points on this flight, and for the pink-haired walking IED, the air sickness bags are located in the seat-back, in front of you. As for Sgt. Lugo, if you feel the need to toss your cookies, feel free to lean over the side and do so without getting any inside our craft, and try not to fall to your death. Thank you very much, and we'll be taking off shortly."_

Crosby shook his head and pointed his finger upwards at the lieutenant, signaling him all on board were secured and ready for takeoff. During the twenty minute flight back to the academy, he thought about his next mission parameters. They would have to locate this so-called 'Steel Dragon'; maybe some of the old literature in the library would have something on it. He scratched his forearm, ever since that talisman had burned a rune above his tattoo it itched, and he made a mental note to talk to Colbert about it.

As he saw the Tristain Academy of Magic loom in the distance ahead, he spoke into his radio.

"Take us in at the Wind Courtyard, lieutenant."

There was a hiss of static.

_"Roger that, just a quick question?"_

"Go ahead."

_"Which courtyard is the Wind Courtyard? And what the hell sort of name is that?"_

Crosby sighed.

"Each of those five courtyards are named after the five elements of magic, lieutenant. Don't you know anything?"

_"Sorry I asked sarge."_

"In case you're wondering, the Wind Courtyard is the one closest to us, and it's the one with the large crowd."

_"Roger that."_

The Little Bird hovered over the courtyard and slowly descended. When it touched down, Crosby jumped down and assisted the passengers with disembarking without getting decapitated by the blades. Over the roar of the engine and the blades cutting through the air he heard a _kyaaa_, which was impressive. He saw something fly past him at high speed and collide with Lugo.

"Oh, John Lugo! I'm so so so happy that you're back!"

Crosby smiled as he watched the Delta Force sniper reunite with Siesta. When Louise, Saito and Guiche disembarked, he gave the thumbs-up to Bowles and the chopper lifted off.

He noted that the fop was reuniting with his girlfriend with the blonde ringlets in her hair. He looked up and watched the Little Bird ascend, he then saw something else in the sky and took a large step back. And a busty redhead face-planted on the spot where the Zulu Squad sergeant was just standing. Apparently she could also fly.

"Oooh! My old war horse has returned!"

Kirche had picked herself up and dusted herself off, and was now running towards Crosby at full tilt. He sidestepped her and the redhead collided with Saito. Since it effectively wedged the teenager's face into Kirche's ample bosom, he didn't seem to mind.

"Stupid perverted dog of a familiar!"

Louise, on the other hand, did mind. Crosby shook his head and looked through the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the teacher Colbert.

"Tabitha?"

The blue haired girl looked up from her book.

"Yes, Sir Crosby?"

"Where is Mr. Colbert?"

She looked back down into her book. It must have been a fascinating read, judging by how often he found her with her nose stuck in it.

"Mr. Colbert is in a conference with Osmond."

Crosby nodded.

"Roger that."

He looked over to Lugo, who was still being bear-hugged by Siesta.

"Sergeant Lugo, when you have finished canoodling with your girlfriend, would you kindly accompany me to debrief Osmond on the mission update?"

The Zulu Squad sergeant heard another yelp of pain and saw the pinkette beating Saito with another riding crop. He rolled his eyes.

"And would someone please calm Louise down?"

**(15 minutes later, inside Osmond's office)**

Colbert stared for a long time at the rune on Crosby's forearm.

"This is most unusual, it bears a similarity to the Gandálfr rune on Louise's familiar, but I have never seen one like it."

He examined the talisman.

"And you are sure that this amulet is responsible for you receiving this rune?"

Crosby nodded.

"As soon as I unwrapped it and examined it, I felt a burning sensation on my arm, and when I rolled up my sleeve, there was the rune. They have to be connected."

Colbert looked back at the amulet.

"This talisman or amulet is Romalian and very old, I may have to inquire with one of my contacts within Pope Vittorio's court to find out more."

He handed the amulet back to Crosby, and looked over to Louise.

"I am glad you returned safely Miss Vallière, Professor Chevreuse was missing you while you were away."

The pinkette looked startled, as if she had just remembered something.

"Oh, goodness! I'm going to be late for her class!"

Lugo grinned as he watched the pink-haired teen rush out the door with Saito in tow.

"Gonna follow our pink-haired walking IED to make sure she doesn't blow up half the school?"

Crosby returned the grin.

"Yeah, I guess I'd better. At least when she's in class I can keep an eye on her. Want to come with?"

Lugo chuckled.

"Negative. I've got some catching up to do with my lady friend, if you know what I mean."

The Zulu Squad sergeant shook his head.

"Fair enough, sergeant. I'll see you at chow time."

He caught up with Louise and Saito just as they were entering the Earth Tower. As he followed the students filing into the large classroom the professor caught his attention.

"Ah, Sir Crosby! Welcome to my classroom! Have you come to learn about Earth magic?"

He shrugged.

"As much as anything ma'am I just wanted to keep an eye on Louise. But learning how you guys wield magic can't hurt."

He made his way to the back of the classroom where Louise and Saito were seated. The professor clapped her hands to get the student's attention.

"Alright now class, settle in and give me your best attention!"

Crosby leaned against the wall and listened as Chevreuse lectured the students about the importance of the Earth elemental magic. It was quite fascinating to hear her talk about it. Even more fascinating was watching her take a pebble and put it on the desk, and with a wave of her wand, turning it into a shiny metal. He smiled to himself, thinking that there were people in the commodity trade that would pay handsomely to learn that skillset. His musings were interrupted when the professor called Louise's name.

"Miss Vallière, will you demonstrate the Transmutation spell for the class?"

Crosby noticed that Louise had been jolted awake.

"Er, Professor Chevreuse, I-I…"

Kirche interrupted.

"Professor, don't let Louise the Zero perform the spell, she'll blow up this room!"

The pinkette turned and glared at the redhead.

"That last time was unfair! I was unprepared!"

She turned back to the teacher.

"Professor Chevreuse, I accept!"

The professor seemed uncomfortable as Louise approached her desk, where the pebbles were gathered in a heap.

"Erm, Miss Vallière, would you mind not performing the spell on my desk?"

Crosby spoke up.

"Ma'am, I think I have a solution."

He made his way to the front of the class and picked one of the pebbles up and placing it in the palm of his gloved hand. He turned back to the pinkette.

"Okay, my lady, just do exactly what Professor Chevreuse did, and turn this pebble into a shiny metal object."

"Ah, Sir Crosby," Chevreuse asked, "Are you sure that is wise?"

He looked up at the professor.

"Ma'am, with respect, I'm wearing body armor that can stop multiple direct hits from high-caliber weapons from my world. I think it can stop a blast if the spell goes wrong."

He turned back to Louise, who was still hesitating.

"It's okay, Louise, you can do this. What's the worst that could happen? I get my eyebrows singed?"

In spite of his words he did pull his baklava up and pull down his goggles over his eyes. No sense in taking chances. He noticed that Tabitha left the classroom, and Kirche and Saito were crouching under desks. A small part of him questioned the wisdom of volunteering, but after the pep talk he gave the pinkette he didn't feel like backing away.

Louise took a deep breath, and recited the incantation of transmutation.

There was a deafening explosion that knocked the pinkette on her backside. When the smoke cleared she saw Chevreuse out cold and twitching on the floor. And no sign of her bodyguard.

Crosby's ears were still ringing from the blast. He made a mental note to trust his gut and not step into the line of fire like that again. He felt like someone had slammed him in the stomach with a bag of cement. He pushed his goggles back and coughed, trying to get his bearings. Apparently the blast had sent him through the wall of the classroom and into a student washroom, if the fragments of the mirror were any indication. He noticed not without humor that he had left a hole in the wall that approximated his own silhouette. He could hear a commotion from the classroom, along with Louise's voice calling out to him.

"I'm okay! I'm okay!"

His voice sounded hoarse and off, but it could also have been the ringing in his ears. Louise stuck her head through the hole in the wall, he could see Saito and Tabitha were behind her. The pinkette had started to apologize, but froze, and she was looking at him in the oddest way, as if he had grown a second head.

"What's the matter?"

Saito was looking at him too, and he was the first to speak.

"Crosby-san, have you looked in a mirror yet?"

The Zulu Squad sergeant panicked, did Louise turn his nose green or give him a wart? He grabbed a shard of the mirror off the floor and almost dropped it. It was his face, but not a face he had seen for a long time. His scars were gone, his eyes were larger, more like the locals. He was, for lack of a better word, young again. His mind was reeling from this shock when another voice spoke up.

"Aaah! My old war horse is now a young handsome war horse! Come to me, Sir Crosby!"

"Oh crap."

Quickly he scrabbled to his feet and slipped out the bathroom door before Kirche could get through the opening. Apparently her and Louise were fighting about something. His clumsy running was being hampered by his submachine gun dangling now around his waist, then his helmet slipped down over his eyes and he collided with someone.

"Why don't you watch where you're-oh?"

Montmorency stopped her angry scolding to stare at the teenager in the odd clothes. He was very handsome with short dark brown hair and beautiful blue-grey eyes.

Crosby wrenched his helmet off so he could see where he was going, and pulled himself up, noticing that the blonde girlfriend of Guiche was staring at him and doing that eye shimmer thingie. He shook his head. The blonde girl turned her head at the sound of loud squabbling in the hall, while she was distracted Crosby quickly rounded a corner and gathered his thoughts. He would need to find a hiding place, stat. He looked up and had an idea.

**(Later)**

It was nearly dark when Crosby decided to come out of his improvised hiding place in the rafters. He gingerly climbed down one of the pillars and hopped to the ground. There was no sign of any students or faculty. Good. He flipped on his radio.

"This is Iceman calling Delta Three, do you copy?"

There was a pause before he heard the static-laced voice of the Delta sniper.

_"Hey, hey, the Zulu Squad sergeant lives! Where are you at, sarge?"_

"Until just now, hiding. I need you to meet me in the kitchen where we can formulate some sort of plan. See if you can get in contact with Colbert or Osmond, and see if they can find a way to reverse the spell. Got it?"

_"Roger that, sarge. You shouldn't in such a toot to change back, with your newfound youth you've become very popular with the ladies, if the servant chatter is anything to go off of."_

Crosby sighed.

"Duly noted, sergeant, but I'm going to be breaking a lot of hearts tonight. Meet me at the kitchen in five. Iceman out."

He switched his radio off and felt something trip him, he stumbled and fell on his back. He saw a familiar looking fiery red lizard staring at him intently.

"Well, what do you want?"

As if to respond Flame the fire salamander grabbed him by his booted foot and dragged him away. It took Crosby only seconds to figure out where Flame was taking him.

"Oh no, no you don't! Let go of me, you stupid oversized iguana! I swear if you don't stop and let go of me pronto I'm going to turn you into a pair of cowboy boots! Leggo!"

This brought him back to his current state, trapped in Kirche's bedroom after a long evening of trying to rebuff her amorous advances. He checked his watch, 06:13. Gingerly he slid out of bed so as not to wake the bed's other occupant and pulled on his black trousers and laced up his boots. Fortunately his feet hadn't grown much since he was a teen, and cinching his belt tighter kept his utes from falling down. He glanced over to Flame. The redhead's fire salamander was still sound asleep, like his mistress. Crosby gathered up his armor and weapons into a bundle and tip-toed out of the room. Once in the hallway he made his way downstairs towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Chef Marteau, you still have that crate?"

"Ah, it is Sir Crosby again! I almost didn't recognize you, yes here it is."

Crosby raised an eyebrow.

"You knew about Louise's little mishap in class yesterday?"

"Why yes, it is all over the school!"

He clapped Crosby on the back, almost causing the Zulu Squad sergeant turned teen to stagger.

"Thanks, is Lugo up yet?"

"Yes, he got up some time ago and was running around in the Earth Courtyard for some reason. Pea-Tea, he called it."

Crosby nodded.

"Roger that, thanks for your help."

He stuffed all his gear into the crate and carried it out into the dining room. The hall was already filling up with students and Crosby saw a familiar face coming back in.

"Sergeant Lugo!"

The Delta sniper looked his way and grinned.

"Hey, sarge! So, Tabitha told me she saw you being dragged off by Flame last night, did you get some action last night?"

Crosby gave him a flat look.

"If by action you mean having to rebuff the advances of a hormonal redhead, then yes."

Lugo apparently wasn't going to be deterred.

"C'mon sarge, dish up! What was it like?"

"It was like playing paddy cake with an octopus, an octopus with double D cup breasts. Not my idea of fun. I need you to do something for me."

He handed Lugo a crate containing his armor and weapons.

"Here, I need you to secure my gear. Until the spell is reversed I can't let this fall into the wrong hands."

He reached down and pulled the Desert Eagle out of his thigh-holster and handed it to the Delta sniper.

"Also, get Bowles on the horn and see if they have a spare Pals Vest or body armor. Mine isn't going to fit and if we have to be in combat I don't want to be left with my ass hanging in the breeze."

Lugo nodded, and grinned.

"So, what do I call you now that you're a kid? Robert, or Bobby?"

Crosby glared at him.

"You'll call me sarge, Sgt. Crosby or just Crosby. If you try any of that nickname bullshit I'll plant my boot so far up your ass you'll be blowing bootlaces out your nose for a week!"

Lugo snickered.

"Wow, do you kiss your mother with that mouth, kid?"

Crosby was about to retort when Louise ran up and grabbed him by the elbow.

"Ah, there you are, Sir Bodyguard Crosby. Come, and join me for breakfast!"

Kirche appeared seemingly out of nowhere and grabbed Crosby's other arm.

"Perish the thought; my handsome war horse is joining me for breakfast."

Louise glared at the redhead, and jerked Crosby by the elbow closer to her.

"He's my bodyguard; he's eating at my table!"

Kirche chuckled and pulled Crosby closer to her.

"But he spent the night with me, so he should eat at my table!"

The pinkette tugged on his elbow.

"The only reason he spent the night in your room is because your stupid fire lizard dragged him there and you suffocated him with your oversized breasts!"

"Hmph! You're just jealous that he doesn't like flat-chested girls."

Crosby knew now what a rope in a tug of war game felt like. He saw the veins pop in the pinkette's forehead and knew what was coming next. He looked over to Lugo, who was watching the scene unfold with undisguised glee.

"On second thought, sergeant, I changed my mind. Hand me back my Desert Eagle, I think I'll have a .50 caliber bullet for breakfast."

_(AN: Okay, so I really am a little stinker for doing that to Sgt. Crosby. But, as the Bard says, the only way for a character to grow and develop is to move outside his comfort zone, and nothing will move our Zulu Squad sergeant outside his comfort zone like a bit of baleful polymorph and an unwanted harem LOL. There will be no lemons in this arc, mostly because I suck at writing lemon fic and it doesn't really mesh with the story. Don't worry, Crosby will be back to his old self again, but now you know why this arc is rated 'ES'.)_


	38. A Man of Action

_ (AN: Crap. I hate getting sick right after traveling. Gets me behind on everything, including this story. I was hoping to have this chapter done by the weekend, and just now barely finished it. We're going to have to play it by ear for the next chapter, depends on how better I feel as the week progresses and how the workload is._

_On a brighter note, now Sgt. Crosby is having to adjust again, and now he knows how poor Saito feels. All joking aside, in reviewing the earlier chapters the dynamic between Crosby and the denizens of the Tristain Academy of Magic is a bit lopsided, given that he is taller, older and stronger physically than any of students. So it's easy for him to rebuff the advances of Kirche, to ignore Louise hitting him, etc., and to inject some more comedy I thought this would be fun. Enjoy!)_

"C'mon sarge, you can't stay in your room forever."

"Watch me, Lugo. Until Osmond or Colbert can find a way to reverse the spell I am not going anywhere."

The day before Sgt. Crosby had, thanks to Louise's botched transmutation spell, been turned into a pretty-boy teenaged version of himself. Since then he had to rebuff the advances of just about every unattached female on the school grounds. And even some attached ones. He had endured being kidnapped by Flame and being hauled over to Kirche's room. The final straw was at breakfast time, when the Louise and Kirche were fighting over whose table he was going eat at. In the ensuing chaos Crosby had snuck off and barricaded himself in his room.

"Sir Crosby! I order you to exit your room this instant!"

Lugo looked down at the pink haired girl as she stamped her foot indignantly.

"Pinkie, you're not helping. Just let me handle this and whatever happens don't spook him."

She huffed, but said nothing. Lugo turned back to the door, and was about to say something when he heard the sound of something scraping on the other side, as if some large furniture was being scooted across the floor. Then, to his surprise, the door opened, and Crosby came through the door and locked it. He had a look of panic on his face.

"What changed your mind, sarge?"

"Kirche did. Apparently she enlisted the help of Tabitha and her damned dragon and managed to park herself outside my window."

As if on cue there was a knock on the door.

"Oh Sir Crosby! You've locked me in your room, you naughty handsome war horse! Come and unlock the door!"

"Fat chance." Crosby muttered. He nodded to Lugo.

"Come on, let's go find Colbert and see what we can do to fix this clusterfuck."

They exited the dorm area and made their way to the main hallway to the center tower. As they approached the library Crosby noticed that Louise was alone.

"Where's Saito?" Crosby asked.

She shrugged.

"Washing my clothes, he was being disobedient and perverted yesterday evening, so I punished him."

Crosby stopped in the hallway.

"My lady, you really need to eighty-six the abuse on Saito. I've said this before, it's not cool and-"

He paused and noticed that the pinkette didn't appear to be listening to him; she was staring at him intently with shimmering eyes. He shook his head. Crap, not her too, he thought. He snapped his fingers.

"Mission control to Louise, snap out of it! You'll make your boyfriend jealous."

That snapped her out of her dreamy stupor, but it also appeared to make her angry. She glared at Crosby.

"Stupid Bodyguard!"

She proceeded to hit him with her riding crop, and this time it hurt.

"Ow! Stop that you little brat!"

He snatched the crop out of her hand and threw it out the window.

"Knock that off! There will be no hitting of your bodyguard! Got it?"

She folded her arms and pouted, but at least she stopped trying to hit him. They continued into the Library, and found Colbert pouring over some very old grimoires and books. The professor looked up.

"Ah, Sir Crosby, I had heard from Mr. Lugo that you had a rather unfortunate little accident yesterday in Professor Chevreuse's Transmutation class."

Crosby shrugged.

"How little of an accident it was depends on how easy it is to change me back. Please tell me there's a potion in the medicine cabinet to cure this."

Colbert shook his head.

"I'm very sorry, Sir Crosby, but this is a bit unprecedented. Normally this sort of transformation would not even be possible, especially not by a student. For Miss Vallière to even pull off a spell like this is amazing."

"Amazing isn't the word I'd use, try damned inconvenient, sir. All I want to know is how can I get turned back and get rid of this unwanted harem."

Colbert stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"There might be a spell to reverse it, I will have to consult with Osmond. In the meantime I would suggest not getting hit by any more spells, as I don't know what the side effects might be."

Crosby watched as the professor left, then sat down on one of the chairs and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Great. Just fucking great. Stuck as a teenager for the foreseeable future. How can this day get any worse?"

As if on cue he felt someone wrapping arms around his neck and for a moment his entire world went dark. He could tell by the cloying lavender perfume that the fire mage Kirche had caught up to him.

"Oh! There you are, my lovely handsome war horse!"

He struggled to get free, but Kirche was apparently pretty strong. Or he was apparently much weaker in his younger form. Either way it was clear he would need help. He called out, his voice sounding muffled.

"A little help would be appreciated, Lugo."

He could hear the Delta sniper laugh.

"Sorry sarge, you're on your own."

"Sergeant Lugo, I order you to intervene and get me the hell out of Miss Kirche's cleavage."

"With all due respect sarge, I'm not getting in the middle of this catfight. Not without reinforcements, but I'll be back."

Crosby managed to pry both of Kirche's arms off his neck and dislodged himself long enough to get air and glare at Lugo's retreating form.

"Wait! Come back, Lugo!"

And his face was promptly wedged back into the marshmallow hell of Kirche's bosom. He could feel tiny fists beating his shoulders.

"Sir Bodyguard Crosby! Stop acting like a pervert! I order you to get out of there!"

He gritted his teeth, and with a considerable amount of effort pulled his face out again.

"With respect, my lady, I can't. If you don't like your bodyguard being in this compromising position, then help. But whatever you do STOP HITTING ME!"

Louise snorted.

"Humph! Very well, if you wish to stay with Kirche I won't stop you."

She turned to leave. Crosby was getting desperate, his arms were getting tired and he started to feel faint from the lack of oxygen. He called out to her.

"Look, will you stop being so jealous of your friend's breasts? Just because you're flat doesn't mean you should take it out on the rest of the population."

That did it, Louise turned back around and had a murderous look on her face.

**(Meanwhile in the servant's quarters)**

With the help of Siesta the Delta sniper had located Saito in the middle of washing the pinkette's blouse.

"Hey, kid, Sgt. Crosby's currently being manhandled by Kirche, and Louise and her are about to go toe to toe over him. I need backup on this one."

Before Saito could speak his sword, leaning against the wall, spoke up in McPherson's voice.

"What? Sgt. Crosby is getting some action? Not the stuck-up-by-the-book sergeant that headed up our counterinsurgency cadre?"

Lugo grinned.

"Yep, the same. Apparently you weren't there when Louise the Zero turned him into a teen."

The sword spoke again, this time in Derflinger's voice.

"Whoa, you mean the gruff ol' sarge is a teenager? This I gotta see."

Saito shook out the blouse and hung it up to dry.

"Well, as much as it's funny to see Crosby-san getting glomped, I'll help you. Siesta, can you finish the rest of the laundry?"

The maid nodded.

"So, where is Crosby-san at?"

A loud explosion rocked the building and knocked all three of them off their feet. Lugo was the first to pull himself up, helping Siesta and then Saito off the floor. He noticed bits of plaster and dust wafted down from the ceiling.

"Oh crap, we might be too late. That sounded like it came from the Library. Come on let hurry before Louise blows up the rest of the school."

_(AN: This chapter was a lot shorter than I wanted it to be, but it was killing me to have this sitting in the doc file and not finishing it. I hope there aren't too many plot holes or grammatical errors. Hopefully the next chapter, aptly titled A Man of Patience, will be up by the end of the week.)_


	39. A Man of Patience

_(AN: So, feeling better and churned out this next chapter, more hilarity ensues. Enjoy!)_

Crosby crawled out of the ruins that was until recently a bookcase and groaned. He hurt all over. He hadn't felt this battered since Dubai. At least under the cover of smoke he couldn't see Louise or Kirche, which meant they couldn't see him. Suddenly he heard Lugo's voice.

"Holy crap on a cracker! Pinkie what the hell did you do, detonate an MOAB? Hey sarge! Where are you?"

"Over here."

Crosby coughed and pushed the last tattered book off his chest. He saw the Delta sniper make his way through the wreckage, coughing and waving away the smoke. He held out a hand.

Are you all right?"

"Barely, I think that pink-haired brat cracked a rib."

Crosby rasped as he accepted the hand and pulled himself up. He flinched as he saw Kirche running towards him.

"Ooh! Is my poor handsome war horse hurt?"

Lugo held out a hand to forestall the red-headed fire mage.

"Ah, why don't you give Sir Crosby some space, he's pretty banged up."

Crosby reached into his bellows pocket of his utes and pulled out his radio. Thankfully it had not been damaged in the pinkette's latest outburst.

"If this encounter has proven anything, it's that I need body armor, stat. I have the IFF protocols, get Bowles on the horn."

When the two soldiers made their way out of the ruined library and into the Earth courtyard, Lugo switched on the radio.

"Bravo Six this is Delta Three, IFF authentication is Romeo Foxtrot, Romeo Charlie Four, Zero, Fife, Two, how copy?"

There was a pause, and Lugo repeated his message. Then after about three minutes Bowles' voice came through the static.

_"Delta Three this is Bravo Six, we confirm IFF authentication, quick question, why are you on the horn and not Iceman?"_

Lugo looked over to Crosby and grinned. The Zulu Squad sergeant turned teen shook his head.

"Ah, Bravo Six, it's a long story, but if you have a spare PALS Vest or body armor we need to requisition it."

Bowles' voice chuckled.

_"Roger that, well I think we have a spare vest. We're currently situated at an inn call the Charming Fairies Inn, it's roughly twenty klicks from the academy."_

The Delta sniper looked over to Crosby, who nodded, he keyed the talk mic.

"Roger that Bravo Six, we will RV with you at the Charming Fairies. Delta Three out."

Lugo switched off the radio and handed Crosby. He noticed Guiche was making his way towards them, with Saito hot on his heels and the blonde girl Montmorency in tow. Saito looked out of breath as if he had been trying to speak and run at the same time, but before either he or Crosby could speak the blonde fop brandished his rose wand and spoke.

"Sir Crosby! It has come to my attention that my beloved MonMon has expressed desires towards you, and I cannot let this stand. I respect you greatly as a fellow noble, but my honor demands satisfaction."

Crosby glared at him.

"Kid, I'm in no mood for jokes. I've almost been suffocated by that crazy redhead Zerbst and almost blown to bits by Louise. So I'm giving you some friendly advice. Scram."

Guiche started to retort but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"Guiche, you idiot! I just said that Sir Crosby had lovely eyes! And what is it to you, if I find another boy attractive? Haven't I caught you on several occasions lusting after other girls?"

The sergeant turned teen growled and pushed past the fop and his girlfriend.

"I don't have time for this shit, I'm outta here."

Guiche grabbed his shoulder to stop him, but didn't get far. Crosby rounded on him and sent a cross-punch right in the fop's face, sending him flying back with a black eye. Crosby glared as he watched Guiche mewling in pain and cradling his face, while his girlfriend alternated between fussing over his injury and fussing at him for starting a fight. Crosby shook his head. He nodded at Saito.

"Did you get a chance to speak with Osmond? Please tell me that old goat has a cure on the ready."

The teen shook his head.

"I'm sorry Crosby-san, he was as baffled as Professor Colbert. They were both pouring over old texts and seemed more interested in finding out about your rune."

"Well, it was a fool's hope to think I'd be that lucky. Lugo, Saito, you're with me. Let's get RV with Bravo Six and assess the situation. If nothing else I need a breather from all this insanity."

The trio requisitioned horses from the school's stables and soon they were underway. As they rode on Crosby found himself massaging the knuckles on his right hand, they were bright red and swollen.

"Crap I didn't hit the kid that hard, it shouldn't have hurt that bad."

His musings were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"So, Sergeant Crosby, how does it feel to be 15 again?"

He turned and glared at the sword slung on Saito's back.

"With all due respect, sir, it sucks balls. I'm shorter, weaker and have slower reflexes."

The voice of McPherson chuckled.

"Not to mention younger, with a facelift and more handsome to boot. You should have heard that blonde chick Montmorency gushing over you to her idiot boyfriend. How did she put it?"

A second voice interrupted.

"Hooo boooy she was laying it on thick with a trowel, she was all like 'Oooh, he is so handsome and beautiful, and his eyes are like the stormy waters of Radgorian Lake!'"

Crosby rolled his eyes.

"Derflinger, I put up with the crap from McPherson because technically even as a sword he outranks me, you on the other hand can stuff it."

Lugo joined in.

"Well sarge, now you don't have an excuse of being older than all the girls at the Academy. Personally if it was me I would be taking full advantage of that."

Crosby glared at the Delta Sniper.

"And why don't you, if it's such a wonderful idea?"

Lugo laughed.

"Sorry sarge, I'm spoken for, and there's only just enough Lugo for one little gal, and Siesta is that gal."

It was almost noon before they reached the inn; and it was the place, if the battered Little Bird parked out back was any indication. Crosby nodded.

"This looks like the place. Alright let's go in and hopefully get some moments of peace."

He was the first to dismount, and opened the door to the tavern. He had not taken three stepped when he was tackled by two giggling girls in barmaid outfits, one blonde and one with chestnut colored hair, both squealing over him and covering him with pecks and kisses. He could see Lt. Bowles push away from the bar and smirk at him.

"Looks like Marlène and Jeanne found a new playmate. They were so heartbroken when they heard that 'Joe the Sniper' didn't come back with us."

Crosby tried to push the blonde off him so he could sit up.

"Lieutenant Bowles, as funny as you find this, would you kindly get these two giggling brats off me?"

The lieutenant's eyes widened, and he let out a whistle.

"Holy fountain of youth Batman! What the hell happened to you, sarge?"

** (back at the Tristain Academy of Magic)**

Montmorency finished her luncheon early and left the dining hall, noticing Louise the Zero being scolded by Professor Colbert, probably about her outburst in the library. She also noticed Kirche Zerbst sitting at a table with the little bookworm Tabitha, the redhead was groaning theatrically about missing her 'handsome war horse'. The blonde shook her head, the elaborate ringlets in her hair shaking in sympathy with her head. As she entered the hallway leading towards the dorm she saw a cloaked figure hiding in one of the alcoves. This was the person she was wanted to intercept. She approached and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Do you have it?"

The cloaked figure nodded.

"Do you have coin, my lady?"

She nodded and pulled out a small leather purse of money.

"Here, 300 écus, as you requested."

She tossed it to the figure, who caught the purse deftly with one gloved hand. The other hand withdrew from the cloak's folds and produced a small ornate potion bottle, and very gingerly handed it to the blonde girl.

"I need not warn you of how illegal it is to possess such substances, my lady."

She snorted in an unladylike fashion.

"I care not for the risks, I care only if this will be effective."

"It will, but beware of the consequences."

Montmorency looked down at the phial with undisguised glee, but when she looked up, the figure was gone. She shrugged. One way or another she, Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency, would not let him slip through her grasp.

_(AN: DUNDUNDUUUUUN! And the humiliation conga line continues with poor Sgt. Crosby. I'm afraid he's not going to get the breaks he was hoping for. And for those of you familiar (no pun intended) with the anime/manga series you know what's coming up next, only this time it's getting cranked up to eleven. Those of you who aren't, well, you're in for some real fireworks. Next chapter should be up by the weekend, and it's aptly called Aim High.)_


	40. In Your Face

_(AN: Oookaaay, couple of quick points. First I've finally gotten the seasons of FOZ and have been catching up on my watching, and it's amazing how much the anime deviates in certain places from the novels. I pictured the Charming Fairies Inn to be one of these country taverns, when in the anime it's actually in town. So I'm going to do a bit of hand-waving here and have the Charming Fairies in the country, specifically halfway between the school and Tristainia._

_*magician comes on stage and waves his gloved hands in a dramatic fashion*_

_There, that wasn't so hard, was it? Second, remember when I said the next chapter was called Aim High? Well, I kinda lied. Actually I was having so much fun humiliating poor Sgt. Crosby I decided to stretch this arc out a bit more, and add an extra chapter. Beware, if ye be scared of shipping and fourth wall abuse, then these be the last friendly words ye'll hear.)_

Crosby sat at the bar with Lugo and Saito, with his fellow soldier Lt. Bowles smirking.

"So, sarge, you've turned into quite the ladies' man since your little change-up."

The sword on Saito's back spoke up in McPherson's voice.

"Lieutenant you don't know the half of it. From what I've heard every girl in the academy unattached and even attached have a hard-on for him."

Bowles snickered.

"I should get Tebby in here so he can see."

"Where is he?"

The lieutenant nodded towards the back door.

"He's out back working on the `Bird. I swear that corporal spends more time working on the chopper than anything else. Guy should have been a grease monkey in another life."

Their conversation was interrupted when a brunette barmaid with a kerchief in her hair arrived with their tankards of beer. She smiled at the lieutenant and nodded over to Crosby.

"Who is the young man?"

"That, dear Jessica, is Sergeant Robert Crosby. He was my squadron commander back in Dubai."

Her eyes widened.

"B-but he's just a boy?"

Crosby spoke up.

"Ma'am, with respect, I'm older than I look. One of the witches at the Tristain Academy of Magic botched a transmutation spell and turned me into a younger version of myself."

Jessica looked thoughtful.

"The Tristain Academy of Magic? I have a cousin that works there. Maybe you've met her, her name is Siesta."

Lugo choked on some of his ale at that comment. Crosby shook his head.

"Yes ma'am. Siesta is a good friend of ours; it's nice to know she has a cousin."

The maid smiled at the compliment and left them to their ale. Lugo looked over where the two younger barmaids were.

"So, Alex decided to stay behind, huh."

Tebby nodded.

"Yep, ostensibly it was to help out Gordon and the colonel with their gun R&D, but I suspect that knight gal Agnès might have something to do with it. Personally I'm just happy the kid has opened up."

Lugo took another sip from his tankard.

"I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that he's Captain Walker's younger brother. I mean, Walker never told us he even had a brother, let alone that he was with the 33rd."

Bowles shook his head.

"Well, hardly any of us knew, the only ranking officer that knew of the connection was Lt. Gordon, and after the mutiny everything got kind of scrambled up."

He was interrupted by the chestnut-haired maid, Jeanne who shyly whispered something in Bowles' ear. He nodded and gestured over towards Crosby.

"What was that all about?"

Bowles shrugged.

"Oh, nothing. Marlène wanted to put on some of our music and Jeanne wanted a dance partner."

Before Crosby could say anything the maid ran over to him and grabbed both his hands, pulling him to the center of the tavern. Lugo noticed that the blonde maid had pulled out a battered hot pink boom box and placed it on the bar. When she pushed the play button loud pop music blared from its speakers. Lugo spoke up over the din as he watched the blonde dance with Crosby.

"I'm curious to know how a three man chopper chalk came to possess a pink boom box with Lady Gaga tunes."

"Well, after the botched evac and the mutiny my platoon's morale was kind of low, so I asked Sgt. Connors to keep an eye out for any CD players or tape decks the next time he was out on a supply run. I'm guessing it belonged to some Emirati teenager."

Lugo finished his ale and grinned.

"Wow, that's weird."

"If you think that's weird you should have seen my platoon in the mornings. Picture a group of twenty soldiers doing PT to Japanese pop music."

Lugo looked over to where the Zulu Squad sergeant turned teen was, and saw that Marlène had joined in and was trying to steal Jeanne's dance partner. He checked his watch.

"Well, as amusing as it is to see the sarge getting humiliated on the dance floor, we really should get back to the school. Pinkie is going to miss her familiar, and Kirche will be missing her war horse."

Bowles signaled to Scarron, who shut off the music, much to the dismay of the two barmaids. They further pouted when Bowles pried Crosby away from them so he could try on the body armor.

"Well," asked Bowles, "how is it?"

Crosby tightened the last Velcro strap on this vest.

"Well, it stinks of old sweat and stale beer, and I feel the grit of sand on the inside, but it'll do."

The lieutenant nodded.

"Well, Alex never had much use for his body armor when he was in the sniper cadre, so I don't see any harm in letting you have it."

The trio said goodbye to Bowles, and with his and Lugo's help were able to disentangle Crosby from Marlène and Jeanne, who clearly didn't want him to leave. For all the humiliation he seemed in good spirits, and while they were trotting back to the Academy he turned to Saito.

"Saito, quick question."

"Sure, Crosby-san, what is it?"

"Didn't you tell me that back in Japan there are entire cartoons and comic books that revolve around a guy being surrounded by beautiful women that fight over him and want to make babies ever after with him?"

Saito nodded.

"It's true, it's called the Harem genre, and it was very popular a few years ago."

Crosby shook his head.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm in one, kid. But if this happened in one of those stories I'd call it overkill and say the author has issues."

McPherson's voice spoke up.

"Try being stuck in a sword, sergeant. This whole place is nuts."

Lugo grinned.

"Well, I for one am not complaining, if this was one of those stories I'm buying the guy who wrote it a beer."

It was almost dusk when the trio arrived back in the school, Saito left to go check on Louise, which left Lugo and Crosby in the kitchen getting an early supper. When he finished Crosby nodded to the chef.

"Say, chef Marteaux, do you still have that cauldron?"

Lugo grinned.

"Kinda tempting fate there, you sure that's wise, sarge?"

Crosby shook his head.

"The Wind courtyard is nice and isolated this time at night, so I should be fine. If any of the girls ask I'm barricaded in my room."

"And Kirche?"

"Especially Kirche. Come to think of it, you might tell her I'm spending the night at the Charming Fairies Inn."

"Roger that, sarge." Lugo looked up and saw Siesta waving at him.

"Well I have my cue to leave, so have a good night, and don't let the redheads bite."

Crosby rolled his eyes.

"That will be all, sergeant."

**(15 minutes later, in the Wind Courtyard)**

The hot bath felt even better than the last time he took one. Maybe it was the combination of a long day and a fine dinner that made the bath feel so good. Crosby leaned back and rested his head against the lip of the cauldron.

When he looked up he saw the Weaver smiling at him, she had one arm on the lip of the cauldron and was resting her chin in the crook of her elbow.

"I must have dozed off, if you're here."

She giggled.

**_"You didn't get much sleep last night."_**

"Yeah, it's kind of hard to sleep when you're fending off the advances of a hormonal redhead. Speaking of which, any chance you could help?"

She shook her head.

**_"I told you, Robert Crosby, there are things within the Tapestry which I cannot control. Only Ǣsbiǫrn has absolute control over everything."_**

"Who?"

**_"Ǣsbiǫrn is the master of all within this Tapestry, from the Celestial Empyrean to the Dark Realms."_**

"So, this guy is some kind of god?"

**_"Ǣsbiǫrn is not a god. Ǣsbiǫrn simply is. Nor is He unique. There are many like Him who create other different tapestries and patterns. It was He who created this Tapestry; all patterns in the Tapestry are subject to His whims. It was He who brought Alduin to the Dark Realms and allowed him to corrupt the patterns here."_**

"He doesn't sounds like a very nice fellow."

**_"He is a very mercurial being, to some He is warm and kind, to some cruel and capricious, and sometimes He is a comical trickster who sees the Tapestry as His stage and the patterns His actors. He even had a hand in the patterns of your old life." _**

"Yeah, well if you see him tell him I owe him an asswhipping for turning me into a kid. And the unwanted harem."

**_"Patience, Robert Crosby. The hero of a tale is above everything else patient and kind. I cannot release you from this curse, but I can give you the means to release its hold on you. Speak to your companions who are of this world and ask them about the Nøkk, it will hold the key to breaking your curse."_**

"Okay, that's a start at least. Thanks, I appreciate it."

She leaned in to kiss his forehead. He smiled.

"Careful, you might fall in and get your dress wet."

She giggled again.

**_"But then at least you'd have company. Continue on your path, Robert Crosby, you will find what you seek. And take advantage of the laughter in the coming days, for it will not always be this bright."_**

He woken up spluttering, apparently he slipped under the water in his sleep. As he cleared the water out of his eyes he noticed Louise was standing right by the cauldron with a dreamy look on her face.

"What is it, my lady? Why are you looking at me like I'm the special on the menu?"

She closed her eyes and let out a theatrical sigh.

"Oh, Sir Bodyguard Crosby! I cannot contain my love for you any longer!"

He frowned.

"Okay, it was a riot when you did it for Count Wardes, but the 'I'm madly in love with Sir Crosby' act ain't funny anymore."

The pinkette looked stricken.

"What do you mean? This is no act, my love for you is real, and as deep as the oceans and could reach the moons themselves!"

And she was doing the eye shimmer. Panic didn't creep up Crosby's spine, it was a high-speed bullet train that raced up his vertebrae and collided at full tilt with his lower cerebral cortex.

"I said drop the act! You're starting to freak me out!"

She frowned, and was about to say something when another voice interrupted.

"Louise! You messed everything up! You really are a Zero, that tea was meant for my beloved Guiche, and you drank it! Worse, I accidently drank the rest of it, do you even know how much-oh?"

It was Guiche's girlfriend, Montmorency. She was in the process of berating Louise when she saw Crosby looking at her. Her expression changed and her eyes began to shimmer.

"Oh, my gallant knight with the beautiful eyes! How I do adore you!"

Louise spun around to face the blonde.

"How dare you say such things to my boyfriend!"

Montmorency huffed.

"Hmph! Louise the Zero has a boyfriend, that is rich. You do know that he has to agree before you can call him your boyfriend, don't you?"

The pinkette opened her mouth but was interrupted yet again by the sound of another voice.

"Ahh, my handsome war horse is bathing! I hope you saved room for your favorite fire mage!"

Both girls looked away at the sound of the voice, and it was Kirche in a bathrobe and had her hair up. But when they looked back, the cauldron was empty.

_(AN: Yeah, it's official, I'm a class-A stinker. Seriously I was playing _Spec Ops: The Line_ yesterday evening and I swear one of the Zulu Squad soldiers in the Bridge level instead of saying "Taking casualties" said "We are _**not**_ amused." So, the next chapter Aim High (which will probably be split up in two parts) will resolve this current crisis that poor Crosby is in. The question is, should I? Or has Sgt. 'I was a teenage bishonen heartthrob' Crosby run its course? Let me know what you think, I can stall his cure for a few more chapters, or we can end in the next chapter, your choice. Bonus points to anyone who can identify who this Ǣsbiǫrn character is.)_


	41. Author's Note and Intermission Part Deux

_AN: Welp, I knew we would get here eventually given the subject matter, but we need more handwaving, so without further ado:_

_*The mustached magician wearing a white bowtie and evening wear comes into the spotlight on the stage and dramatically waves his white-gloved hands, he speaks up in a cultured RP British accent*_

_"With this hand-wave, let it be understood that any female denizens of Helkeginia who are, might be or implied to be paired off with, or 'shipped' as it is colloquially known, with any members of the Damned 33__rd__ or Delta Squad are of age and over the age of 18. This includes but is not limited to: the Princess Henrietta, the maid Siesta, her cousin Jessica, and…oh dash it all what's-her-name the blonde bird brandishing the blunderbuss. Thank you for your attention, and now time for something completely different."_

_That concludes that bit of unpleasantness, although it's a legit gripe, the last thing we want is our heroes and rogues being accused of unpleasant things._

_On to more pleasant subjects I'm extremely happy with the response the "silly" arc has generated, but I've concluded it's run its course and we have to move the story forward. I'm still stubbing out the next chapter Aim High, and as I suspected I'm going to have to split it up into two parts. Should have the first part done by Sunday evening. Until then, thank you all for your input and for your continued interest._


	42. Aim High

_(AN: Before we get under way, another disclaimer:_

_*same spotlighted stage, Mr. Handwaver the Magician comes into the circle of light, looks down at his cue card and frowns*_

_"I say, this is absolute rot! You're not paying me enough to recite this rubbish!"_

_*A disembodied voice booms from above*_

**"Mr. Handwaver, are you familiar with the term 'yaoi slashfic'?"**

_*he looks puzzled*_

_"Well, no, that term doesn't seem familiar."_

**"Take a minute and look it up."**

_*the gentleman pulls out his smartphone and taps the screen a few times. A look of horror and revulsion appears on his face*_

_"This is disgusting! And people do write that?"_

**"Yep. And if you refuse to cooperate, I'll have to find other uses for you."**

_*he squares his shoulders and folds his arms defiantly*_

_"You wouldn't dare!"_

_*In a puff of smoke, there appeared a large, muscular man sporting a handlebar mustache and wearing leather chaps. He gives Mr. Handwaver a flirtatious wink. Quickly the magician recites the disclaimer at top speed*_

_"This disclaimer states that the following events take place exactly fifteen minutes prior to Sgt. Crosby taking his bath. This disclaimer also states wishes to reiterate that Spec Ops the Line belongs to Yager Entertainment and Familiar of Zero belong to Yamaguchi Noboro. Any references to pop culture up to and including Monty Python belong to their respective owners. No familiars were harmed in the production of this chapter."_

_*the biker looks disappointed, and disappears in a puff of smoke*_

_"Wanker." the gentleman says under his breath._

_*In another puff of smoke there appear two large bikers. The gentleman panics and runs off stage*_

_"And now time for something completely different! I hope!"_

_*ahem*_

_The Weaver was right; I do have a bit of a cruel streak in me. Anyways, enjoy the chapter!)_

Montmorency placed the last piece of silverware on the table set for two and looked around. Nobody was in the courtyard, it was evening and all the students were having dinner. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small phial and poured it into one of the teacups. Her beloved Guiche should be finishing is dinner and promised to have tea and cakes with her afterwards. Soon she would not have to worry about him flirting with other girls. Soon she would have Guiche all to herself. Her thoughts were interrupted when someone collided with her and knocked her to her backside. Standing over her and panting very hard was Louise.

"What in the name of Brimir are you doing, Louise?"

The pinkette was still huffing.

"I'm, I'm trying to catch up with my familiar. He ran off again."

She noticed the tea.

"My throat is dry from all this running, can I have some of your tea?"

Montmorency shook her head emphatically.

"No! Don't!"

The pinkette had already put the cup to her lips and was taking a drink when Montmorency tried to snatch the cup out of her hand. She lost her balance and fell to the ground again. Its contents spilled all over her, she could even taste some of the tea in her mouth. She glared and Louise, but the pinkette was already gone. She ran after her.

** (15 minutes later)**

Kirche peered into the cauldron.

"Yoo-hoo! Sir Crosby, are you hiding in there my handsome war horse?"

Louise huffed.

"Kirche, he's not going to be in the cauldron! And you're not getting him! He's mine!"

The blonde was deep in thought; she had her arms folded and was tapping her chin with a finger. She interrupted the argument brewing between the redhead and the Zero.

"Both of you shut up! Sir Crosby couldn't have gotten far, his clothes are in the kitchen with the staff. That's where I'm going."

She turned and ran towards the center tower, with the pinkette and Kirche hot on her heels. The courtyard was silent again, a shadow appeared and temporarily eclipsed the light that the two moons were putting off. Sylphid was flying with Tabitha and Crosby on its back.

"Thanks, Tabitha. I owe you a library of books."

She didn't say anything but nodded. An idea popped into his head.

"Say, do you know anything about something called a nøkk is?"

That elicited a reaction, she looked surprised.

"How do you know its true name?"

"What's it?"

"The nøkk is a Water Spirit of Lagdorian Lake, that is its one true name, only Montmorency's family knows that. How did you know?"

Crosby shrugged.

"I have a source. Any way we can get there?"

She shook her head.

"Very far away. Should use your airship."

"Well, it was worth asking."

He looked over to the main tower.

"Any chance you can get me to my room? I need to keep a low profile until that potion wears off."

Tabitha nodded, and Sylphid took off in the direction of the dormitory. When it hovered by his window, he jumped onto the balcony and turned back to Tabitha.

"Can you run by the kitchen and pick up my gear? Just drop it off on the balcony or have Siesta drop it off."

She nodded again, and the dragon took off.

Crosby opened the windows to his suite and allowed himself a sigh of relief.

"Safe at last."

He said to himself in the darkened room. The something collided with him and pinned him to the floor. He smelled lavender and cursed.

"Oh crap."

Louise stamped her foot.

"Kirche! Stop suffocating my boyfriend with your enormous breasts!"

Before the redhead could insult Louise, the blonde in the room spoke up.

"Louise, you are such a Zero! He isn't your boyfriend just because you say he's your boyfriend, he's mine!"

Kirche was distracted enough for Crosby to pull himself out her marshmallow hell and scooted away from the trio. This one time he wished he had his hardware, instead he was in a tee shirt and boxers.

"Nobody in this room is anyone's boyfriend! Now all of you take a chill pill!"

All three of the girls looked striken. The blonde spoke first.

"It's my freckles, isn't it? They mar my otherwise perfect visage!"

Louise sniffled.

"It's because I'm flat-chested, you're one of those perverts who love breasts."

Crosby shook his head.

"Look, all of you need to just chill out. Now what the hell happened? Kirche I can understand the unwanted attention, she's had a hard-on for me since I was turned. But you two have gone from giving me goo-goo eyes to outright sex assault and wild declarations of love. What's the gag?"

Louise spoke up.

"I don't know, the last thing I remembered was drinking some of Montmorency's tea."

He looked over to the blonde.

"What did you do, slip a magical mickey in the tea for your boyfriend?"

Montmorency hung her head and blushed. Kirche's eyes widened.

"One of the first year students told me a purveyor in illegal potions was nabbed in town, with a large amount of money on his person."

Crosby looked back to the redhead.

"You mean love potions are illegal? That's rich."

Montmorency looked on the verge of tears.

"All I wanted was for my Guiche to love me back!"

He shook his head and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Look, kid, it's no secret that your idiot boyfriend can't keep it in his pants. But using drugs isn't the answer."

She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering.

"My beautiful knight loves me back, I knew it!"

"Oh crap."

She grabbed him in a fierce hug. And the argument started all over again.

"Wait!" Kirche exclaimed. "I have an idea how to settle this."

**(10 minutes later)**

"Sir Crosby! Sir Crosby where are you?"

Tabitha had told Siesta to bring his clothes to his room, but when she arrived, he was nowhere to be found. She noticed the window was swinging open and went to close it. What she saw out the window made her drop the bundle of clothes and run out the door. She had to go wake up Mr. Lugo, and quickly.

**(Meanwhile, in the Wind Courtyard)**

"Okay, okay, I know everybody's blood is up and you gals are hot and bothered, and not thinking clearly. I'm only going to say this once, ladies. GET ME THE FUCK DOWN NOW!"

Crosby was tied up, and dangling from Kirche's window. The trio of lovesick girls were on the ground, Kirche had decided on a duel of magical abilities. The rule was simple, whoever could destroy the rope and release Sir Crosby, would win. To say Crosby was not happy was an understatement. He was losing his cool.

"I'm not fucking around here, ladies, get me down and nobody gets hurt, especially me!"

Kirche waved at Crosby.

"Not to worry, my handsome war horse! I won't let Louise the Zero hurt you!"

Montmorency glared at the redhead.

"If anyone is going to save my boyfriend, it will be me!"

The pinkette pushed the other two aside.

"I have heard enough, only I will save my true love!"

She let off an incantation, and a bolt of energy blew her off her feet and narrowly missed Crosby, leaving a huge hole in the side of the tower.

The blonde screamed in terror.

"Louise, you Zero! Are you trying to kill my boyfriend?!"

She turned called up to Crosby.

"My knight Sir Crosby! Are you alright?"

"No I'm not alright! That crazy pink-haired brat almost killed me! Now get me down!"

Kirche stepped up.

"Perish the thought! My handsome war horse will be freed by heat of my love for him."

But before she could get a spell off, there was a loud crack that echoed through the courtyard, and the rope dangling Crosby snapped. A blue blur swept him up. He struggled but stopped when he heard a familiar voice.

"It's okay, sarge, I gotcha."

He grinned at the Delta sniper.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, sergeant. How did you know?"

"Siesta went to your room to give you your clothes, and saw what Big Red, Pinkie and MonMon were planning to do, and told me. Actually all she told me was that you were in mortal danger, so I grabbed Betsy and made a beeline for the courtyard."

Crosby nodded to his rifle.

"That was a hell of a shot. Don't tell me you took the shot on Sylphid's back?"

Lugo grinned.

"If I told you no, would that make you feel better?"

Crosby shrugged.

"Fair enough, I don't need to know. Give me a hand and cut me loose."

When Lugo had freed the last of Crosby's bonds, the blue dragon landed lightly on the ground. Crosby and the Delta sniper slipped off.

"Good news, I think I may found a cure for what ails me."

Lugo nodded over to the trio of witches-in-training.

"You mean your curse or them?"

Crosby saw the girls approach and his face hardened.

"Both."

Quickly he reached and grabbed Lugo's M9 out the holster and pointed it at the incoming girls, who stopped dead in their tracks. He could hear Lugo talking to him.

"Okay, sarge, I know you've had a rough night, but this is a bit extreme."

He ignored it, and spoke up.

"Okay, ladies, you know what this boomstick can do, so listen very carefully. Tomorrow is a big day; we're making a trip to Gallia and a lake where a water sprite resides. A little bird told me this sprite holds the key to curing me, and possibly you two as well. So I'm off to bed to get the first good night's sleep since I've been turned into a pretty boy chick magnet. Anyone who so much as lays a finger on me before tomorrow morning gets a lead salad, got it?"

All three of them looked heartbroken at his words, but they nodded.

"Good."

He handed the pistol butt-first back to Lugo.

"I'm getting some shut-eye, get Bowles on the horn and let him know we need a ride first thing in the morning."

_(AN: Okay, so that was a bit of an overreaction on Sgt. Crosby's part, but remember he's been functioning on little sleep and has been pawed and pecked and kissed and glomped by a never-ending herd of females, and the witch's duel was the last straw. Part two should be up by the middle of next week, could be sooner. Hope you enjoyed!)_


	43. Aim High, Part Deux

_(AN:  
*there is the same stage with a spotlight, Mr. Handwaver runs on stage with the two bikers hot on his heels. He gives them the slip and hides by the floodlights. He looks up and whispers*_

_"I know you can hear me, and I want to know that I'm sorry I called you a wanker. I would greatly appreciate it if you could use your vast God-like powers to unwrite this unfortunate episode out and return things back to normal."_

_*in a puff of smoke the bikers disappear and the magician is back to his immaculately groomed self and looks around questioningly*_

_"What? Why am I here?"_

**"Nothing, I thought I had a handwave for you to do, as it turned out I just altered a few sentences."**

_"Ah, very good then. And now time for something completely different."_

_ See? I can be nice. On a more serious note there had been some questions about why Crosby snapped the way he did in the last chapter. I thought I'd put a bit of 'reality ensues' angle, but I'm addressing it in this chapter. _

_I've been slowing down on my updates, which is irritating me, and work has been super busy this week since one of my project managers called in sick and I'm basically doing his job in addition to mine. Add to this mix a nasty bit of writer's cramp and you have a recipe for disaster. This chapter is very short, but I figured it could sit in my doc manager folder for a week or I could at least post it and give you guys something this week. I'll try to get the third part up by the weekend or 1__st__ part of next week. Anyways here's the second part of Aim High, enjoy!)_

_"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Corporal Jebediah Tebby, your regular pilot Lt. Bowles is currently indisposed at the moment enjoying some female company, so I will be your pilot this morning. Thank you for flying Tristainia Airlines, we have about a forty to fifty minute flight ahead of us, depending on the weather. Unfortunately our flight attendants are on strike so there will be no beverage or snack service on this flight. As for in-flight entertainment, you have the choice of watching our pink-haired walking IED abuse her boyfriend, or Sgt. Crosby getting his face wedged between Big Red's melons. Please be advised that due to violence and adult themes, the entertainment is rated PG-13, parental guidance strongly suggested. I wish to point out that if you feel the nicotine cravings due to the unwanted harem wanting to fuck your brains out or the like you'll be SOL, as federal regulations designate this as a "non-smoking" flight. Thank you very much, and we'll be taking off shortly."_

Lugo looked over his shoulder into the passenger compartment of the Little Bird and smirked. Originally Crosby had wanted to go solo, but Montmorency said that the sprite would only speak to a member of her family, so she would have to come. The fact that she was still under the influence of her own love potion also had something to do with it. Louise also wanted to come, and brought Saito her familiar along as well. Kirche came along just because she didn't want to be separated from Crosby, which was why he was currently being cuddled by her. Lugo opted to take the copilot's seat to accommodate the extra passengers. He spoke into his mic.

"Okay Tebby, everyone's secured. Let's lift off."

_"Roger that."_

As the chopper took off, Lugo was thinking about the conversation he had with Crosby the previous night. After he had spoken to Bowles on the radio, Lugo had made his way to the dormitory and knocked on Crosby's door. There was a distinctive rasping click of a handgun being cocked.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, sarge. I just wanted to let you know I got off the horn with Bravo Six, they'll be picking us up at 0600 tomorrow."

The door opened revealing Crosby. He was holding his Desert Eagle on the ready, and quickly peered down the corridor before letting Lugo in. After he entered, Crosby locked the door and stuck the pistol into the waistband of his black utes. The Delta sniper folded his arms.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?"

"What all what was about?"

"Oh, nothing much, just you pulling a loaded gun on three teenaged girls and threatening to kill them. Seems like a bit of overkill to me."

Crosby hung his head.

"Look, I'm sorry about that, but I seriously thought I was going to die when they were doing that stupid witch's duel."

"I dig that, sarge, they were messing with you and almost got you killed, but that was a bit of disproportionate retribution, don't you think?"

Crosby sighed and sat down on the bed.

"I guess something in my mind just snapped."

He looked up to Lugo.

"Do you ever get nightmares about what happened in Dubai, sergeant?"

A pained look crossed the usually cheery Delta sniper's face.

"Just once. It had Walker and Adams in it, too. They were shooting their way through some sort of fortified outpost by a bridge, near a marina."

Crosby nodded.

"That place we called 'The Bridge' because it was the only way to access Konrad's headquarters, the Burj Khalifa, the tallest skyscraper in Dubai."

Lugo continued.

"They were bloodied and looked like hell and basically were killing anything that moved. I was hiding in the last bunker, and burst through the doors. Walker began taunting me, and both he and Adams began shooting at me, I'm guessing they thought I was one of the 33rd. I kept trying to tell him that all this was his fault, that he was no savior, that the only villain was him. Then he shot me in the face, and I woke up. It was bad enough to scare Siesta. She had heard me scream, even though her room is down the hall in the servant's quarters."

Crosby looked thoughtful.

"I've been getting visits by the Weaver in my dreams lately."

Lugo grinned.

"You're lucky, getting a visit by a gorgeous ethereal babe."

Crosby returned the smile.

"Yeah, I think she's developed a sense of humor since she sent me here. She's the one who told me about the water sprite."

Lugo turned and made his way towards the door.

"Look, I'll see about talking some sense to Big Red and Pinkie so they don't go all clingy on you tomorrow, but can you promise me you won't pull a stunt like that again? It really freaked Pinkie out and she was crying when I left her."

Crosby shook his head.

"I can't promise anything, Lugo, but I'll do my damnedest to keep the violent impulses under control."

"That's all I needed to hear. Good night, sarge! See you at 0600."

**(the next morning, 05:45 hours)**

Crosby woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He felt groggy in spite of getting the first good night's sleep since his change-up. He sat up and checked his watch.

"Hmmm? Oh, Bravo Six must be early."

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and put his feet on the floor. He yawned as he shuffled over to the door. The knocking persisted.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming! Ease up, Lugo!"

He unlocked the door and flung it open, and was greeted by a face-full of tanned lavender-scented cleavage.

"I brought my handsome war horse a nice cake for breakfast!"

Crosby pried his face out for air.

"Please tell me you brought coffee?"

As if on cue the redhead pulled up a coffee pot seemingly out of nowhere. He shrugged.

"Okay, you can stay. I have a feeling this is going to be a long day and I'm not facing it without coffee."

_(AN: And there you have it, I know it's short but it also stretches out the 'silly'. Hopefully I'll have the last part done by the weekend, but we'll see. Hope you enjoyed, and as usual if you have any input please make liberal use of the comments and/or PM. See you guys on the weekend!)_


	44. Aim High, Part Trois

Aim High, Part Trois

"Hey! I said cut it out!"

Crosby had finished his coffee and was attempting to finish a slice of cake. Attempting being the key word as he was simultaneously trying to keep Kirche's hands off him as he ate. There was another knock on his door. He disentangled himself from the redhead's embrace long enough to open the door to reveal the Delta sniper, who had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hey, sarge there you are. Am I interrupting anything?"

Crosby glared at Lugo.

"You're late."

"Nope, Bravo Six is late. Just got off the horn with Tebby and he said his ETA is about 15 minutes."

Crosby was about to say something when he was ambushed from behind by the redhead.

"Ah, plenty of time to spend with my handsome war horse."

Lugo grinned at the sight of the Zulu squad sergeant turned teen being glomped by Kirche. Finally he gingerly took both her hands and disengaged Crosby from her embrace.

"Why don't you give your war horse a breather and let him gear up?"

Which brought Lugo back to the present; he was looking over the horizon through the Little Bird's windscreen. Gallia was not much different from Tristian, there were more pine trees, and it was a bit more mountainous, but it wasn't much different. He turned around and beckoned Montmorency to come up front. He motioned to one of the spare headsets that was hanging off the bulkhead. She didn't seem to understand at first but when Lugo motioned towards his own headset she nodded and put the headset on.

"Can you hear me, Blondie?"

She looked startled.

"_Yes, I can hear you! Is this some sort of magic?"_

"Yeah, yeah it's our own version of magic so we can carry on a civilized conversation in this loud 'Bird. Where is this lake?"

The blonde paused for a moment to get her bearings and pointed.

"_There! To the south and east."_

"Tebby, you heard the lady, let's go check it out."

"_Roger that."_

As Tebby guided the Little Bird around an outcropping of foothills, Lugo saw a strange sight. There was a town that was almost completely flooded. He heard Montmorency gasp.

"_The town! It's flooded, but why?"_

"I take it that's not normal?"

She shook her head.

"_No, my family has had a pact with the spirit for many years, something must have angered it."_

He nodded and turned to Tebby.

"Find us a flat spot by the edge of the lake and take us down."

Tebby set the chopper down in a clearing. Lugo jumped out first and scanned the area through the scope of his Scout Tactical. When it was all clear he motioned for the teenagers to disembark, then gave the thumbs-up to Tebby.

"Since Gallia might be aligned with Cromwell and his cronies, you might want to dust off and keep a low profile."

_"Roger that, I'll keep my ears on if you need a hot pickup. Bravo Six out."_

The chopper lifted off and the group made their way towards the edge of the lake. Crosby secured his P90 and adjusted the straps on his borrowed PALS vest. Currently it just had a cross-draw holster for his M9 and a mag pouch. He left the rest of his gear in the care of Marteau, figuring the chef would keep it safe. He took the lead and walked by Saito, mostly to get away from the trio of girls who were currently arguing over which one of them loved Crosby more.

"So kid, you seem awfully laid back about Louise being smitten for me."

Saito shrugged.

"It's okay. When Louise was trying to beat me the other night I told her that the love of her life wouldn't approve her abusing her familiar."

Crosby looked incredulous. The sword strapped to Saito's back spoke up in McPherson's voice.

"Don't blame the kid, sergeant. It was my idea, Saito had asked for advice and I figured it fell under the 'adapt and overcome' column."

Deflinger's voice cut in.

"Yeah, and I told him it was kinda low."

Crosby interrupted.

"And she bought that?"

"Yep, since then she's been very nice to me."

He shook his head.

"This is nuts."

Something on the ground caught his eye and he signaled for the group to stop. He bent down and picked it up. It appeared to be some sort of public notice poster. Someone must have walked off with it and discarded it here. He couldn't read the language on the poster but there was a highly stylized woodcut engraving of someone in heavy armor. He handed it to the trio.

"Can any of you read this?"

Kirche peered at the writing.

"It's Gallian. It says 'Wanted; the criminal known as the Jester and his unholy Golem, for War Crimes against the Crown of Gallia, for the murder of four diplomatic envoys, and for spreading mischief and mayhem in the republic of Albion. A Reward 50,000 sovereigns is offered for their apprehension.'"

She looked up at Crosby.

"Do they mean Mr. Gordon? That can't be right."

Crosby took the wanted poster from her and tucked it in his pocket. He shared a glance with Lugo, then spoke.

"Of course, it's all lies designed to paint the allies of Tristain to be evil. Come on, we're burning up daylight."

They continued through the forest, and after about ten minutes of hiking arrived at the edge of the lake. Louise turned to Crosby and clasped her hands in his.

"Are you sure you want to do this my love? You know that the spell will wear off after a while."

"How long will it take to wear off?"

She thought for a moment.

"Oh, not more than a year."

"And spend a year in this body with the three of you fighting over me? No dice. Blondie, quit with the jealous glares and summon this water spirit."

Montmorency set her toad familiar on the ground and pricked her finger with a small needle.

"Why are you doing that?" Saito asked.

She looked over to him.

"It is for proof that I am a Montmorency."

A drop of blood landed on the toad's back, and it hopped off the ground and into the lake. No sooner had it submerged when the water in the lake started to churn and boil. Then a spout of water from the middle of the lake shot straight up. It morphed into a female form, which bore a striking resemblance to the blonde witch. A voice issued from the water.

"Who is it that has awakened me?"

"It is I, Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency, who has awakened you. I seek to undo a wrong that has been wrought. I need three of your tears to accomplish this."

The water spirit shook her head.

"I cannot grant this to you, not while I seek what has been taken from me."

Crosby took a step forward.

"Seeking? Is that why you flooded the village?"

The water spirit nodded her head.

"Yes. Two wicked mages stole a treasure from me, my ring of Andvari. Until it is recovered I must refuse, and I must ask you to leave."

The spirit's form began to waver, and turn back into a roiling spout of water. Crosby waved his arm.

"Wait, noble Nøkk! I need those tears!"

The spout morphed into a female form again.

"How is it that you know my true name? Who are you?"

The water spirit leaned closer towards Crosby, and suddenly the rune on his forearm began to glow. The spirit spoke.

"It is you, _Lífþrasir_, after all these ages I thought I would never see you again. If I give you the tears, will you accomplish a task for me?"

He nodded.

"Of course, anything."

"Hunt down those who took my ring from me, and bring it back here to me. Will you do this for me, _Lífþrasir_?"

Crosby straightened up and saluted.

"Consider it done."

The water spirit dissolved into a pillar of water, and splashed back into the lake. Three small phials floated out of the water and on the shore by Crosby's feet. The spirit's voice echoed across the water.

"Remember your promise _Lífþrasir_, and a thousand blessings on your quest."

Without hesitation Crosby grabbed one of the phial's and drank down its contents. Immediately he felt a burning sensation and was blown into the water. When he emerged from the water he felt his face and looked over to Saito for affirmation.

"It worked, Crosby-san."

He nodded as he pulled himself out of the water.

"Give the other two to Louise and Montmorency."

The change was less dramatic on the two girls, and they were back to their old selves.

"Sir Crosby, I am sorry for my wanton behavior towards you."

Crosby turned to Montmorency, who was blushing.

"Forget it, it's all water under the bridge, Miss Montmorency. The question is, who or what is _Lífþrasir_?"

The blonde shook her head.

"I don't know. It must have formed an ancient pact with this spirit, for the spirit to trust you with its tears."

Crosby was about to respond when he felt a something hit his back. Unsurprisingly, it didn't hurt.

"Stupid Bodyguard! Stupid! Stupid! Stup-"

He turned around quickly to see Louise hitting him. He snatched the riding crop out of her hand and threw it in the lake.

"With all due respect to my lady," he said, ignoring her tiny fists pummeling his leg, "if you hadn't bungled that transmutation spell I wouldn't be in that position to begin with."

He looked up and saw the redhead flying towards him.

"What has happened to my poor old war horse, let Kirche make it all better!"

Her advance was halted when her forehead collided with Crosby's palm, he was very gently but firmly keeping the well-endowed redhead at arm's length.

"I'm sorry Miss Zerbst, it pains me to tell you that you have glomped your last glomp with Sgt. Crosby. I hope you had a lovely time over the last couple of days, thanks for playing. But there will be no more of that."

He nodded over to Lugo.

"Get Tebby on the horn and tell him to pick us up, we're out of here."

_(AN: Sorry, Kirche. It had to end sometime, but you'll always have the night when Crosby slept in your bed. _

_Welp, hope you enjoyed this 'silly' arc, I certainly did get a chuckle out of writing it. I'm shifting gears for the next chapter, we're going to be checking in with Konrad and co. at the palace. The Radioman might even make an appearance. Work has me busy and up to my eyeballs so depending on how things go it will probably be the weekend when I publish the next chapter.)_


	45. One Big Happy Family

_(AN: Okay, as you might infer from the title I'm running out of Achievements from Spec Ops: The Line and I'm going to be introducing some original titles. These will either be witty one-liners that I have created on my own, or achievements from other FPS. The good news for you is that this next arc has been expanded quite a bit; it will include more elements from the Familiar of Zero storyline and some extra stuff. Heck I might even throw in one more SOTL character for good measure. Any suggestions, be it for the titles or if you want/don't' want another new character, feel free to put them in the suggestion box. As previously stated things have been getting busy with work and such, but I promise I will update at least once a week, either Saturday evening or Sunday morning.)_

The stillness of the afternoon air in Tristainia was broken by the drone of a Little Bird engine and the sound of blades cutting through the air. The inhabitants of the city had grown accustomed to seeing the odd-looking airship flying to and from the palace. Tebby's passenger spoke up.

"_Wow, that's the palace? Pretty fancy digs, man."_

"Yeah, Radioman, it's plenty fancy. Too gilded for my tastes, but if it's going to house a princess I guess it has to be."

Darden looked over his shoulder at all the equipment in the passenger compartment of the chopper.

"_You sure my stuff is secured?"_

Bowles nodded.

"Sure I'm sure. Of course we were in a bit of a hurry to bug out."

**(Earlier)**

While Tebby was having a road trip to Gallia to cure Crosby and the teen witches, Bowles had received a radio call from Lt. Gordon at the palace. Apparently his friend Robert Darden, aka the Jester, was in serious trouble. One of the nobles who let him use his country estate was captured by the Reconquista, and they were closing the noose. Fortunately for Darden they weren't counting on an aerial evac. So he had marching orders on the ready when Tebby radioed in.

_"Ah, Bravo Actual this is Bravo Six I have successfully completed Operation Waterspout, packages are dropped off, I am inbound."_

Tebby's voice crackled through the static. Bowles responded.

"Belay that Bravo Six, we have new orders. Radioman's in hot water and needs an evac."_  
_

_"Holy shit, how hot is hot?"_

"Apparently one of his contacts turned on him, and now they have closed off the border and have him surrounded. I don't have many details other than they're not making a move yet, but time is still of the essence. Gordon will transmit the IFF codes for you to home in on when you get close."

_"Roger that. Bravo Six is inbound to Albion, ETA three hours."_

It was midday by the time Tebby reached Albion, he was flying high enough to avoid detection and was going off of the IFF beacon Darden was transmitting. He opened a channel.

"To friendly transponder ID Fife, One, Fife, Zero, Romeo, Delta; this Bravo Six transmitting IFF authentication is Romeo Foxtrot, Juliet Tango Four, Zero, Niner, Niner, if you copy turn to channel twelve and respond."

For a full minute there was nothing but static and he tried again. After the second time he heard a faint voice in the static.

"_Holy crap, looks like the Jester is getting his very own Operation Frequent Wind! Bravo Six I am very fucking glad to hear your voice."_

Tebby chuckled.

"Roger that Jester, be advised I am about sixty klicks from your poz and closing so hunker down and sit tight."

**(20 minutes later, the Jester's castle)**

Darden was getting nervous. The Reconquista troops hadn't tried ramming the gates of his castle yet, they were just sitting there as if taunting him to try and leave. He checked his watch. Bravo Six should be here any minute now. He looked over to the only person who hadn't left, an elderly caretaker of the castle who wore some sort of Tartan cape over his tweed clothes. With his ruddy complexion and thick accent Darden had nicknamed appropriately.

"Hey, Groundskeeper Willie, there should be room on this craft for the both of us, if you've changed your mind."  
The old man shook his head.

"With respect, Mr. Darden, I cannot leave the castle, it's my duty to stay."*

Darden shrugged, and then heard the distinctive sound of rotor blades beating through the air. He started to wave one of his Hawaiian shirts in the air to get the pilot's attention. When the chopper was making its approach, Darden turned back to the groundskeeper.

"Well, looks like my ride is here. Can you at least help with the equipment?"

"Aye, I will."

This brought Tebby to the present, still chuckling over the Reconquista soldiers gawking at his 'Bird as if it were some dragon. After they got over their initial shock they tried to shoot arrows and even some fire magic spells, but by that point Bravo Six was well out of range. He switched to the command channel and spoke up.

"Heavy Four this is Bravo Six, I have the package from Operation Radio-Airlift on board and inbound."

There was a slight pause but then Gordon's voice came through the static.

"_Roger that Bravo Six, touch down in the main courtyard and bring Radioman inside. He has an old friend who wants to meet him."_

Darden snickered over the radio.

"So old Gordon has set up shop in the palace too, huh? Always knew that guy had a soft spot for royalty."

Tebby steered the Little Bird towards a large open area within the palace where an improvised landing pad was marked out and had a shelter next to it covered in camouflaged netting. There was a small group of knights waiting for them as the chopper's skids touched down. They stood at a safe distance and waited for the engine and blades to slow down before approaching. Darden slipped the catch on his safety harness and opened the door. One of the knights saluted an awkward attempt of a US military salute.

"Robert Darden, alias the Jester?"

Darden nodded.

"Yep, that's me. You guys must be the concierge service."

The knight who spoke looked puzzled, but a familiar voice spoke up from off to the side.

"Quit with the joking, Darden. These guys won't get it."

The Radioman turned his head and saw a familiar sight.

"Well, well, it would appear as if Gordon is still alive. What's shaking, man?"

"Not much, just trying to whip the Tristainian army into battle readiness before the Reconquista decides to invade. C'mon, let's go introduce you to the others."

Gordon led them both through an entrance into the palace and down a long corridor. At the end of the hallway was a large ornate wooden door with several knights standing at attention in front of it. Including a figure wearing the familiar digital desert ACU's.

"Heeeey! It's another member of the Damned 33rd! I know you, you're ah, ahhhh, Torrez?"

Alex turned from talking to Agnès.

"Nope, wrong answer, Radioman."

He was unprepared for Darden grabbing him into a bear hug, shocking the blonde female knight.

"This is so awesome! The 33rd is reunited!"

He began to twirl the young sniper in a circle.

"Reunited! In a whole new wooooorld!"

He heard Gordon clear his throat, so Darden stopped singing/mangling a Disney song and set Alex down.

"All seriousness aside, this is awesomeness taken up to eleven! It's one big happy family reunion! But without the awkward bits like the pervvy old uncle who wants to touch you inappropriately or the slutty second cousin who gets drunk and wants to sleep with you."

Darden saw the look on Gordon's face.

"What?"

"You done?"

"Umm, lemme think…yep! I think I'm good!"

"Good. Because you're about to meet a very important person and it is imperative that you make a good impression, got it?"

Darden waved his hand.

"Yeah, yeah you're forgetting I once interviewed the Emir of Dubai, I know how to deal with stuck-up royalty."

Gordon sighed.

"Yeah, I heard the transcript of that interview. Just mind your p's and q's, okay?"

He nodded to the blonde knight, who signaled to the two guards. They opened the double doors with flourish and revealed a cavernous room filled with banners and columns. Running up the middle of the room between the columns was a deep plush red carpet. Darden smirked.

"They're rolling out the red carpet for us, huh?"

Gordon shook his head.

"Carpet's not for us, Robert."

As they continued to walk Darden could see a throne on the far end of the room on a raised dais, with a gilded throne atop it. He saw two figures talking off to the side, one of whom he recognized.

"Konrad?"

Col. Konrad turned and smiled.

"Well, well, Darden. It's good to see you made it out of Albion in one piece. Welcome to Tristain."

Darden couldn't help himself, he ran over and hugged the colonel as well.

"Oh, man! It's so good to see that you made it, too, sir."

Konrad smiled.

"Good to see you too."

Darden then noticed the other person that Konrad was talking to, a lovely young lady with purple hair.

"So John, are you going to introduce me to this pretty young thing?"

He heard Gordon clear his throat and Konrad shifted in his feet uncomfortably.

"Ah, Robert, I would appreciate it greatly if you would show proper decorum for our hostess. May I present her majesty Princess Henrietta of Tristain."

Darden whistled.

"Oh, wow, um yeah sorry about that your highness. I was, ah, just expecting someone older and more uptight, ah, you know what I'm just going to shut up now and stop digging my hole deeper."

The princess to her credit just smiled.

"It's alright, welcome to Tristain, Mr. Darden, or should I say the Jester?"

He grinned.

"Oh, so you've heard of the great Jester of Albion?"

Gordon spoke up.

"If you mean she's heard what a royal pain in the ass you are, then yes."

Konrad interjected before things escalated.

"Lieutenant, that will be all, I believe you have soldiers to train."

the lieutenant saluted.

"Yes, sir!"

When Gordon left, Konrad turned back to Henrietta.

"Your majesty, with your permission I need to debrief Mr. Darden here."

She nodded.

"Of course, you will be available for dinner, won't you?"

Konrad smiled.

"Of course, your majesty."

"Please, I've told you before, you can call me Henrietta, it's alright."

Darden watched the princess leave through a side door in the throne room.

"So John, you and the princess, eh? You sly old dog you!"

Konrad chuckled and shook his head.

"It's not like that, Robert. She's just a good friend and an ally."

"Riiight, I know probably I haven't been here as long as you have Colonel, but I do know that when the women in this world start to do that shimmer thing with their eyes it ain't for their subordinates or friends."

The colonel decided to switch tack.

"So Robert, what did the Lady in the White Light tell you?"

A shadow crossed Darden's face.

"It's a long story."

*The groundskeeper is speaking in an Glaswegian accent for those who are interested. And yeah, I'm not even going to attempt to phonetically try the accent, because 1. Too much work and you as readers might not understand and 2. I really don't want to insult any readers from that neck of the woods.)

_(AN: Ugh, I'm not happy with this chapter. I planned on writing this Big Damned Heroes moment with Tebby rescuing Darden from the Reconquista, but I couldn't get the action sequence to gel up and not look cheesy. So in the end I cut it all out. At least I got another chapter out before the weekend. _

_So, as the Radioman said, now they're all one big happy family. Well, until Radioman and Lugo meet, and then it becomes an awkward reunion to say the least. Hope I'm getting Darden's personality right, it's been a while and now that I'm developing his character it's going to present its own challenges. Next chapter, which is aptly called 'Requiem for a Radioman,' will show why he was so reluctant to tell Gordon what happened after he was shot by Lugo. I might have it up by the end of the weekend, but no promises as the workload continues to pile up.)_


	46. Requiem for a Radioman

_(AN: And here we go! We finally find out happened to the Radioman after he was shot.)_

"Oh ye of little faith…"

Darden swung his chair over to the transmitter. The three soldiers making up Delta Squad, the ones who had arrived less than 48 hours earlier and caused all sorts of havoc in Dubai, most recently aligning with the CIA-backed insurgents and destroying Dubai's water supply, had made it into the radio tower. At the time Darden was masking his fear by joking about them killing his protection detail. Now that they were here it didn't appear that they were going to kill him, Captain Walker just wanted to use the radio transmitter, something he was happy to oblige them if it meant saving his skin. Their radioman, a guy named Sgt. Lugo, was trying to get the thing to work and didn't believe him when he explained the signal's strength reached to the stormwall.

He punched a few buttons and flipped a toggle switch.

"You are live and on the air, my good man, give it a shot."

He pushed the microphone over to Lugo. Lugo stared at the mic for a moment, and stood up. Something about his mannerisms seemed off to Darden. All three of the soldiers were ragged and bloodied, but Lugo had this far-off look in his eyes that reminded Darden of some of the survivors of the botched evac.

"Wow. That was easier than I expected."

Lugo drew his pistol.

"Thanks."

And shot him in the face.

Darden didn't even have a chance to react, he was already in a place of darkness. He still had a body of sorts, because he could still feel the stinging pain in his head of being shot. He also felt an impotent rage at this Lugo. Why did Lugo shoot him? He had cooperated and surrendered, and that psychopathic bastard shot him in cold blood. Suddenly he heard what sounded like a clap of thunder, and heard a silky, rasping voice.

"**Yesss, I can feel your anger…You have potential."  
**

"W-who are you?"

"**Who I am issss unimportant. You were killed were you not?"**

"Fuck yeah I was killed, that little prick Lugo shot me, for no reason!"

There was another rumble, it sounded like laughter.

"**What if I were to tell you that the one who killed you escaped justisssss?"**

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"**Yesss, he will go to an idyllic world where he will never suffer the conssssequencessss of his crimessss."**

Darden raged at the thought of his killer getting off scot-free.

"NO! That's not fucking fair!"

The entity seemed to sense his anger, and a thought entered his mind, a thought of revenge.

"**What if I were to tell you that I would give you a meanssss to avenge yourself? What would you give me in return?"**

Before Darden could speak, he could hear a voice, very faint, and distinctively feminine.

"_No, Robert Darden, you mustn't give in to your anger! Listen to your heart, and see what your hubris wrought on your friends."_

The entity seemed irritated.

"**Go away witch! This one issss mine! I can feel his hatred flowing through through him, and it isss…mmmm…intoxicating!"**

Fire, like lava, flared up in front of Darden, and licked around him. Suddenly he was aware of two red eyes glaring in the distance. An icy cold knot formed in his stomach, if he had one, and for once in his life Darden wished he had been religious.

"_You will not have him!" _

It was the feminine voice, again, her melodious voice louder this time. Darden could see a small pinprick of light in the distance. The entity sensed it too.

"**No! I will not be denied again! This one hassss has agreed to treat with me, and he will be MINE!"**

Darden tried to speak, but the creature roared. An unstoppable force hit him and forced him to his knees. It was worse than any wind, worse than any storm he had been in, even worse than the sandstorm that stalled out the convoy of Konrad's botched evacuation of Dubai. He could scarcely hear his own screams. Then the light was no longer faint, but burst with the brightness of a hundred suns, and for one awful moment Darden could see the entity that had been talking to him. A terrible black-scaled dragon with horns and talons like scythes unfurled its leathery wings and tried to whip away the bright light, to no avail. Then Darden heard a voice from within the light. It was the same feminine voice as before, but now it sounded more powerful, beautiful, and terrible.

"_**You shall not have him, Alduin the Corruptor, Bane of Svongaard, and Devourer of Worlds! I am **__**Tinúviel**__**, Weaver of Fate, Wielder of the Sacred Light of **__**Telperion**__**, and Mistress of the Celestial Empyrean! Your profane shouts will avail you not in my realm! You will stay in the Darkness whence you were banished, and you will corrupt no more souls henceforth! Begone!"**_

The dark creature vanished, and in the bright white light Darden could see a figure. It was tall and slender, and as his eyes adjusted to the brightness, female. She had long flowing green hair and was wearing some sort of toga-like dress in gold and purple. And she was strikingly beautiful. He grinned.

"Hey good-looking what's cookin'? I mean, apart from you because you're like, smokin'! Ruf!"

The beautiful lady looked at him with a neutral expression, as if she had not heard what he said. Darden continued.

"And that some really nice hair, tell me does the carpet match the drapes, so to speak?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at his own joke. As if in response the lady's brow furrowed and she folded her arms. When she spoke it was in the same melodic voice he heard before.

"_**If that was meant as either a romantic overture or humor, then you failed at both; I have heard better from better men than you, Marion Robert Darden."**_

That annoyed him.

"Hey! It's just Robert! I go by Robert! Jeez I hated that name in grade school."

She ignored his outburst and continued.

"_**You had the opportunity within your tapestry to do as your friend asked you to, improve the morale of those charged with protecting you. Instead you became intoxicated over the power you wielded, and abused it."**_

Darden frowned.

"Hey, hey, that's not fair, lady. Dubai was a shithole and if you had been there you wouldn't be judging me."

She unfolded her arms an approached him.

"_**On the contrary, Robert Darden, I saw the patterns within that weave. Yes, it is true that the place you came from was a place of violence and misery, but even in that place there were threads who still were worthy of redemption; be it as a savior, a knight or a hero. You possess none of those qualities."**_

"Then why the hell did you save me, lady? Just to give me a 'reason you suck' speech? Okay, yeah I got it, I'm a bad boy. What're you going to do, spank me?"

The lady smiled, but it was not a friendly one.

"_**No, I do not think that would be sufficient. There is another tapestry where I have sent other threads like yours, one whose patterns can be changed for the better. Within this tapestry you can use your talents for good."**_

"Oh, I get it with all the mystical double-talk; you're telling me there is another world where I can be the hero and save the day, right?"  
She shook her head.

"_**No, that Tapestry already has a hero, but you will be useful in your own right."**_

She snapped her fingers, and a world became visible. At first only continents were visible, but then different lands came into focus and finally a large city. When Darden could make out the city's inhabitants he yelped.

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me? Technicolored talking ponies?"

She continued to smile.

_**"What is wrong with it? 'Tis a peaceful and beautiful place, do you not like it?"  
**_

"Fuck no! What the hell am I gonna do there as a human?"

The lady seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"_**You are quite correct, that is a problem. But thankfully a problem I can rectify."**_

She snapped her fingers again, and this time Darden felt weird. Something was wrong, either she had grown much taller or he had grown much smaller. He fell to his knees and was struggled to stay on his feet. Then he looked down at his hands and saw hooves. He looked up and saw a mirror had appeared by the lady, and saw his reflection. He was, in fact, a pony, a purple pony with large eyes and a green mane.

"What the fuck, lady!?"

His voice sounded much higher and squeaker. The lady put a slender hand to her mouth and giggled, as if the sight of him amused her.

"_**Yes, I think that will work. You will be a jester in the court of the ruler of this land, one princess Celestia."**_

Darden was still in shock and he shook his head.

"No, this can't be! Come on lady this isn't funny anymore."

She thoughtfully tapped her delicate chin with one of her fingers, and continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"_**You will need a new name to suit your new office; I think I shall call you…Merry Maker, that fits perfectly, don't you think, Merry Maker?"**_

Darden stumbled forward and awkwardly clutched one of her bare legs.

"Please, please lady, don't send me there! I'm begging ya!"

She very gently disengaged his hooves, and readjusted the wispy folds of her garment. She cocked her head to one side.

"_**Can it be that you do not want to go?"**_

Darden nodded his head.

"Please, just hear me out, okay?"

She folded her arms.

"_**Proceed. But your time grows short."**_

"Okay, okay, look I know I talked mighty big about wanting to help and shit like that when I arrived in Dubai. But the truth was I just wanted a big scoop, I was in jeopardy of being replaced at the magazine by some young upstarts, and this gig was going to be my comeback. And I meant what I said, I did want to improve morale with the music, and I did care about Konrad, I mean initially I didn't but when I got to know him as a person instead of just another military brass, I cared, I did! Hell I tried to talk him away from the ledge when he said he was contemplating suicide, but he was too far gone by that point… And then when Delta Squad showed up, I could have stopped, at any point I could have ordered the 33rd to stand down and let them leave Dubai. But I didn't I was just so pissed off at them that I wanted to see them pay…It's all my fault…"

He heard the lady speak.

"_**Your hubris cost the lives of hundreds, and drove Captain Walker and the men under him into the hands of those who wanted to destroy you. And yet you seemed not to care."  
**_

He looked up and saw a soldier standing next to the lady. He walked up to Darden and squatted down to look at Darden. His uniform was filthy and covered in dried blood and sand.

"Well, well, well, you sure look different. Do you know who I am, Radioman?"

Darden nodded.

"You're from the 33rd."

The soldier leaned in, so Darden could see his grimy and streaked face.

"But do you know who I am, what my name is, and my rank, and what I left behind?"

Darden shook his head.

"No, kid, I'm sorry I don't."

The soldier stood up.

"My name is Private Pete Gobbi. Hell, you interviewed me, and you don't even recognize me?"

"What are you doing here?"

The soldier gestured to the lady.

"Miss Tinny brought me here. She's has been fillin' me in on what's been happening to my friends in the 33rd."

His face broke into a brief grin.

"Apparently my buddy Crosby is having a fun time where he's at."

"Huh?"

The smile left Gobbi's face and he glared at Darden.

"We were ordered by Konrad to protect you at all costs, and yet you cracked jokes about us as we were being picked off one by one by that murdering psychopathic bastard Walker. That guy who you thought was an asshole and wouldn't miss him? He had a baby boy that was born when he was still in the Rockpile, and now that kid will grow up never knowing his dad. That guy who was in your so-called fantasy football league? He left behind a mother who's going to die of a broken heart when she finds out he bought it. We have names, dammit!"

Darden lowered his head, and when he raised it again Gobbi was gone.

"What did Gobbi mean? About his buddies?"

The lady spoke.

"_**As I told you, there were ones within your tapestry who were worthy of redemption, and I plucked them and weaved them into another tapestry, one where they can change the pattern for the better."**_

Darden perked up.

"Could you send me there? I can do a lot more good there than being a jester pony!"

The lady shook her head.

"That tapestry is for those who showed valor, kindness or loyalty, such attributes that you do not possess."

Darden clasped his hooves together.

"Oh come on please, please, puh-leeez!?"

And he gave her the sad pony eyes. Finally she smiled.

"_**Very well. Robert Darden, you have passed the final test, I will weave your thread into this tapestry, and if you can help the others accomplish their tasks you will earn forgiveness and your eternal reward."**_

She snapped her fingers a third time, and he felt himself engulfed in a golden light.

_(AN: Aaaand that's why Darden wasn't real keen to tell Gordon what happened. Seriously as one of the reviewers indicated, the Radioman is the closest thing to an main antagonist of _Spec Ops: The Line_, and he was kind of a dick. I figured this was a good way for the Weaver to cure him of some of his dick-ness. And it amused me. And before anybody talks continuity, remember than in the Weaver's world exists outside of time, so she can put them wherever and whenever. Because she's cool like that. Bonus points to anyone who gets the reference of the Weaver's real name, which theoretically make this a 5-way crossover LOL. We're going to shift gears back to the Academy in the next chapter, which I'm stubbing out and should have by next week. Maybe sooner if the workload lightens up.)_


	47. Sierra Hotel

_(AN: Here's the next chapter, things are starting to pick up steam, and there will be some more plot twists of this 8-10 chapter arc, so keep an eye open!)_

It had been almost two weeks since the 'transmutation incident' that made Crosby's life so difficult, but things had returned to normal. The students at the Tristain Academy of Magic had their pre-holiday exams, which Louise barely passed, and now he had the school more or less to himself. Kirche decided to spend the holiday with Tabitha and her family, so he had a reprieve from the post-transformation advances of the buxom redhead.

He had spent much of his time pouring over old texts with Colbert and Osmond, trying to decipher the odd rune on his forearm. One morning after his PT regime he changed back into his uniform and armor and made his way down to the dining hall. He really didn't need to suit up just to have breakfast but the Zulu squad sergeant still felt naked without his gear. When he arrived at the dining hall he easily spotted the Louise and her familiar. What surprised him was that Saito was actually sitting at a chair instead of on the floor. When the pinkette spotted Crosby she waved him over.

"Sir Bodyguard Crosby, over here!"

She turned back to Saito.

"I have to run and talk to Marteau in the kitchen, but I will be back, if the servant girl comes around have her order the strawberry cake for myself and order whatever you and my bodyguard want."

Saito nodded, when he turned to greet Crosby he saw that the sergeant's jaw was somewhere around his boots.

"What's wrong, Crosby-san?"

"When did that happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, when did the Pod People take the loudmouthed bratty pinkette and replace her with Nice, Considerate Pod-Louise?"

The teenager shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, ever since Albion she's been acting strangely."

Crosby took a seat an ordered coffee and some currant cake. When he finished he looked over to Saito.

"Really?"

"Really, she doesn't make me wash her clothes or dress her, I don't even have to sleep on the floor anymore."

The servant arrived with Crosby's order. He took a sip from the sweetened coffee.

"I told you kid, she cares about you. After your big damn heroes moment keeping her safe from that big red dragon, she's warming up to you."

Saito seemed distracted and had a far off look in his eyes.

"What's wrong, kid?"

"Do you ever miss it?"

Crosby took a bite from his cake.

"Miss what?"

"Home, Earth, I mean."

The Zulu Squad sergeant shook his head.

"Nope. I told you, I've got nothing to go back to. Because of what the 'Damned 33rd' did in Dubai I'd be lucky to get a court-martial and a bad-conduct discharge."

He nodded to the dining room around him.

"This world with its unique laws of physics and bizarre female behavior is nuts, but at least here at least I can play the hero."

Saito looked pensive as he looked around.

"I mean, I like Louise; she's really cute and all that, but I miss my folks. Some nights I wonder if they're out there worried about me."

He looked up to Crosby.

"Don't you have family that worries about you? Someone who misses you?"

Crosby shook his head.

"Nope."

Saito looked shocked.

"Really?"

Crosby finished his coffee.

"Don't get me wrong, kid. There are times I miss home…"

He reached into the back pocket of his BDU trousers and pulled out a battered canvas wallet. He flipped it open and pulled out a photograph that was folded and dog-eared. Saito looked at it and saw a picture of a blonde woman.

"She's pretty, is she your girlfriend or wife?"

"Roxanne was my high-school sweetheart, and we married shortly after I graduated from boot camp. This was back in the 90's, so the only real military stuff going on back then was us policing the Balkans and trying to make sure the Serbs, the Croats and the Bosnians were all playing nicely. When I signed up I figured it was a nice gravy train to ride to pay for my college."

He frowned.

"Then 9/11 happened, and I got transferred to the 33rd Mobile Infantry Division. At first Roxy was very supportive, but being away from home took its toll on our marriage. We had a huge knock-down drag-out fight when told her I was planned to re-up. Finally I promised her I would do just one more deployment to Afghanistan, and then request my discharge papers. She agreed, and everything seemed okay. Then, six months into my tour, I get an email from my sister-in-law saying that Roxy was involved in a horrible car crash. I tried to race home, but was held up because of a snowstorm in Frankfurt. She died before I could got there."

Saito's eyes were very wide. Crosby pulled another photograph out of his wallet, and gave it to him. It was a photo of a young brown-haired boy. Crosby continued.

"That's Jonathan, my son, he would be about your age now. He blamed me for Roxy dying, and he refused to speak to me, except to snap and chew me out at the funeral in front of everybody. He never forgave me for not being there for him and his mother, and after the funeral he moved in with his mom's parents."

Crosby smiled grimly.

"When I called him from Dubai to tell him the 33rd was staying he told me he hoped I would die there and be buried under the sand."

He shut his wallet and stuffed it back into his pocket as he saw the pinkette approach.

"So to answer your question, there are some times I miss home, but not enough to go back."

They switched conversations to what they were going to do on Louise's school break. Crosby noticed that she seemed very pensive. Suddenly she set down her teacup and turned to Saito.

"You really want to go home, don't you?"

Saito seemed caught off guard.

"Well, you see…it's not that I don't like it here, but-"

Crosby facepalmed. Louise seemed on the verge of tears and everything Saito was saying was only making it worse. Finally she stood up and ran from the table, crying.

"Wait! Louise wait a minute!"

Both Saito and Crosby stood up and ran after her, it was only in the courtyard that they caught up to her. She was sitting on the ground, still crying. The teen crouched down and took the pinkette's hands.

"I miss my family, that's the only reason I would want to leave this place, but I promise you I won't ever leave you."

That helped, she blinked the tears out of her eyes and nodded. She looked up to Crosby as if for an affirmation.

"I'm not going anywhere, my lady. I've sworn an oath to protect you and your familiar, that is a promise I intend to keep."

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted when a cluster of speakers popped seemingly out of nowhere. The speakers hovered over their heads, and a familiar voice issued forth.

"_Hey, hey, hey! Well if it isn't the guy who screwed up my fantasy football league, long time no see Sgt. Crosby!"_

Crosby shook his head. He had heard from Gordon that Robert Darden, aka the Radioman, had made it into Helkeginia, and now it appeared he was in Tristain. Louise looked up in fear.

"Who is that?"

Crosby shook his head.

"That, my lady, would be the infamous Jester of Albion. Looks like he's set up shop in Tristain."

The voice continued.

"_And who do we have here, you must be Louise, the princess's BFF. Wow, I'm pretty sure I can have Konrad pull some strings and pass the hat around so you can get a boob job. You know, so you don't get mistaken for a boy or something."_

The Zulu squad sergeant and Saito both took a step back from Louise, who was seething. Calling Louise flat chested was one surefire way to make her blow her stack.

"How dare you talk to me that way, you commoner Jester!"

She whipped out her wand and fired off a destructive spell at the speakers, which narrowly moved out of the way in time.

_"Whoops, looks like we provoked the pinkette, it's official: we've just entered the Danger Zone! Time for some music to while I make these speakers dance…"_

Loud 80's music began to blare out of the speakers, music that Crosby recognized.

'_Revvin' up your engine  
Listen to her howlin' roar  
Metal under tension  
Beggin' you to touch and go…'_

Louise fired off another spell with her wand, only to miss again. The music briefly faded and the Radioman's voice came on again.

"_Whoa! Easy with the goods there darlin'!"_

The pinkette fired off another spell, and the speakers moved again.

_"Boy oh boy, that Gordon wasn't kidding when he said you were a walking IED."_

She fired off another shot, and missed.

"_Wow, in addition to being a founding member of the Tristainian Itty Bitty Titty Committee, and having a hair-trigger temper, we can also add that you're a lousy shot!"_

BOOOM!

_"Missed me! Missed Me! Now ya gotta kiss me!"_

Crosby had had enough, he grabbed the pinkette bodily and pinned her under his arm so she couldn't use her wand. She squirmed in his grasp to no avail.

"Stupid! Bodyguard! Unhand me this instant I want to destroy that disrespectful Jester!"

"With respect to my lady, the only thing you're going to destroy is the school if you keep it up."

"Let go of me! I order you to let me go!"

He started to walk away from the speakers with the struggling pinkette still under his arm.

"Not until you calm down or until we reach Colbert's office. Whichever comes first."

_(AN: Well I felt bad about putting Darden through the humiliation conga line in the last chapter, so I thought I'd churn out this short chapter. Now that the Radioman has set up shop in Tristain, expect him to start playing music at random intervals and doing various commenting and trolling. With regard to the speakers popping up all over the place, I'll explain it in one of the upcoming chapters in this arc, but basically I'm doing a bit of handwaving/rule of cool/rule of magic to show that the Albion noble Darden befriended was a powerful mage that enchanted his speakers to appear at will, and gave Darden some sort of scrying power to see and hear where the speakers end up. Kind of along the same lines in the game when he can eavesdrop on Walker's radio chatter. Hope you enjoyed, next chapter should be up by next weekend.)_


	48. Deer Hunter

_(AN: I've been thinking about changing the title of this fic to something more imaginative. As previously stated I had originally intended this to be a one-shot, so I didn't put much thought into the title, figuring as simple as it was it's more 'exactly what it says on the tin' versus some clever play on words. I've been thinking of something like 'Zulu Squad no Tsukaima' or some play on words of the sort. Thoughts? If you want me to keep the title or have some more clever suggestion let me know. __Also some folks have been asking what some of the soldiers look like, since I've been somewhat stingy on the description, I did visualize what they looked like as I wrote them into this story, basically aside from the video game characters like Lugo or Konrad or the Radioman whom you see in the game, here's breakdown of the OC's:_

_Lt. Gordon when I write him I visualize Josh Harnett's appearance as Iverson in Black Hawk Down, being the kind of fresh-faced All American soldier type that contrasts with his fearsome appearance as a Heavy Trooper. _

_Lt. Bowles I based off Eric Bana's appearance as Delta Operator Hoot in the same film, complete with the accent and laid back attitude. _

_Cpl. Tebby I based off Jonah Hill's appearance (in more recent films where he's slimmed down) and like his real life counterpart is a bit of a goofball. _

_Alex Walker is basically a younger, prettier version of Walker without the shaved head. _

_And Crosby although I initially based him off the Zulu Squad commander who 'surrenders' to Walker in the hotel lobby, as the story has progressed I've come to visualize him as Daniel Craig's appearance (complete with the ice blue eyes) and demeanor in Skyfall, but with darker hair and the gruff voice. Just a fun bit of trivia.)_

Louise had calmed down by the time Crosby reached the library. It also helped that the Radioman's magical speakers stopped following them and/or disappeared. Inside the library they found Colbert next to a large stack of ancient-looking leather bound books. He looked up from his reading.

"Ah, Sir Crosby, there you are! I've just discovered a breakthrough in deciphering those runes on your arm!"

Crosby looked down and rolled up the sleeve of his uniform.

"What does it mean?"

"It is incredibly ancient, and usually associated with void mages, who are the rarest and most powerful of mages here in Helkeginia."

Crosby frowned.

"But you still don't know the name? The water sprite in the Lagdorian Lake called me Lífþrasir, does that name mean anything to you?"

The professor looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Are you sure that is what the spirit said?"

"Positive. She called me that name several times, and it was the only reason she gave me her tears. Apparently whatever was called that was someone or something the spirit knew many years ago."

Colbert stood up.

"Please follow me, Sir Crosby."

He looked over to Louise and Saito.

"Since this also deals with the runes on Louise's familiar they can come as well, but what I have to say is not for all ears to hear."

The trio followed Colbert to his office, which was crammed with old dusty books and shelves brimming with glass phials and beakers. The professor went to a large leather-bound grimoire that was perched on a lecturn. Next to the book was the talisman Crosby picked up in Albion and burned the rune into his arm. As Colbert flipped through the pages he spoke to Crosby.

"The name Lífþrasir was a legendary familiar, even more powerful than Gandálfr, it was said to be so powerful it was the familiar of Brimir himself."

He stopped at one page, Crosby looked down at it and sure enough, there was a rune that was the same as the one on his arm. It was also in a group of other runes, one of which was the same as the one on Saito's arm.

"What does it mean?"

Colbert looked up.

"The name Lífþrasir means 'Heart of God', the name is so sacred that it is one of the many titles of Pope Vittorio. The fact that you have it is incredible, it means that you are destined for greatness."

Crosby smiled to himself.

"Well, she did say I would be a hero, makes sense."

He saw the curious look on Colbert's face.

"The Weaver of Fate, the lady who sent me here from my world, said that she would grant me my heart's desire, which was to be a hero."

Colbert nodded.

"It would appear she is correct. Whatever Brimir has in store for you, it will be legendary. I feel much more confident in the upcoming war with you on our side."

Crosby noticed a beaker on a shelf, with a familiar smell.

"What is that?"

Colbert picked the beaker up and handed it to Crosby.

"Ah this? This is dragon's blood. It has some marvelous properties."

Crosby removed the stopped and took a sniff. Impossible.

"Sir, will respect, this isn't blood, this is gasoline, or some sort of petroleum-based product."

He handed it off to Saito, who nodded enthusiastically.

"It is gasoline, Crosby-san."

He turned to Colbert.

"We use this in our world to fuel our vehicles."

Colbert looked excited.

"Really? I may then have a clue for you."

He turned around and started ruffling through a stack of scrolls on the bookcase.

"The man I obtained it from said that he took the blood from a large dragon that sleeps in the desert, in the valley of elves."

Finally he pause with one scroll and unfurled it on the table. It was essentially a map of a world.

"This is an older map of Helkeginia."

Colbert pointed to a small corner of the world.

"This is Tristain, where we are."

He then pointed to a large area to the south.

"This is the country of Nephthys, the land of desert elves."

He traced an invisible line to what looked like an oasis.

The merchant said that the lair of the dragon was close to this Oasis."

Crosby looked up and grinned at the professor.

"Thanks, Mr. Colbert. This is a great help to us. If we can track down this 'Steel Dragon' and if it is an aircraft from my world, it could help in the war effort."

**(10 minutes later, in the kitchen)**

"…So now we have a location of this 'Steel Dragon'. We need to get Bowles on the horn and find out when he can take us out there. It's going to be a bit of a jaunt."

Lugo nodded, and reached for the walkie-talkie by the cutting board.

"Bravo Six this is Delta Three, IFF authentication is Romeo Foxtrot, Romeo Charlie Four, Zero, Fife, Two, how copy?"

The radio squawked to life almost immediately.

"_Holy psychic hotline, Batman! You guys must have burning ears because I was just about to raise you. Oh yeah, this is Bravo Six authentication confirmed."_

Lugo grinned and handed the radio off to Iceman.

"Bravo Six this is Iceman, before you go completely break protocol, I need to have you relay a message to Colonel Konrad, let him know that we've found the location of the 'Steel Dragon.'"

Bowles' voice responded.

"_Iceman you can tell the colonel in person, he's requested all of our presence at the Palace tomorrow afternoon. I'm guessing he has a sit-rep for us on the war effort."_

Crosby nodded.

"Roger that, Bravo Six, what time is pickup?"

"_Apparently the princess wants to feed us lunch, we'll be setting out at 1100."_

"Confirmed, Iceman out."

Lugo turned to Saito.

"I suppose if we're dining with royalty we should spruce up a bit. Any chance old Marteau has a third cauldron?"

**(That evening, in the Wind Courtyard)**

"You're right, sarge, this is awesome!"

All three of the cauldrons were lined up in a row against the wall of the Wind Courtyard, and the three earth-born males were soaking in the hot water and sipping ale out of tankards provided by Chef Marteau. Their coarse talk about women and beer tapered off as Crosby noticed the maid Siesta approach with a pitcher. As she refilled Saito's tankard Lugo spoke up.

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking beer, kid?"

Saito took a long drink from the tankard.

"I dunno, aren't you a little old to be dating a teenager, Lugo-san?"

Saito already had had a few beers and between the hot bath and the beer was feeling the effects. Crosby snickered.

"He's got you there, sergeant. And besides, you can get beer in a vending machine in Tokyo."

Lugo shook his head.

"Hey, come on, is this 'pick on Lugo' day or something?"

He turned to Siesta.

"Sweetheart, will you please tell these two perverts how old you are?"

She nodded.

"I'm age 18, I don't know what you are all obsessed with my age. It was one of the first things Lugo asked me when he arrived here."

Crosby shrugged his sweating shoulders.

"You're still violating the 'half plus seven' rule, Lugo. But hey, we're in another world, if this was a one of those weird Japanese cartoons some people watching might object, but thankfully we're not."

Lugo was about to retort when some familiar-looking speakers popped up above them, and the Radioman's voice piped up.

"_Well, well, well, looks like our favorite sniper isn't just a stone cold ruggedly handsome Delta operator, we can also add pedobear to his list of titles!"_

Lugo facepalmed.

"Oh come on, not you too! Since when did the Radioman show up in Helkeginia?"

The Radioman spoke up as if he heard Lugo.

"_Since a certain Delta sergeant shot a poor, innocent, unarmed and surrendering radio DJ in the face. This is the Radioman coming to you live from the Tristainia Palace and for your bathing enjoyment I'm dedicating this song to our favorite cradle-robber!"_

A thunderous blast of drums and electric-synthesized guitar riffs blared in the speakers.

'_Rock the cradle of love  
Rock the cradle of love  
Yes the cradle of love don't rock easily, It's true!'_

The rest of the song started playing. When Siesta had gotten over her shock she spoke up over the song.

"I don't understand? What is a pedobear?"

_(AN: And the trolling continues. And even though Mr. Handwaver the magician has already handwaved the fact that all the gals in Helkeginia that are paring up with members of the 33__rd__ or Delta Squad are street-legal, this just reinforces it. That doesn't mean the Radioman still can't troll Lugo. Speaking of which they will meet face to face here soon, and it won't be pretty but it won't be fatal either.)_


End file.
